


Mystery Skulls - Empty Dreams

by TheVeR



Series: Mystery Skulls - Ghost [2]
Category: Ghost - Mystery Skulls (Music Video), Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Other, mystery skulls ghost - Freeform, oops I lie about things, what am i doing anymore?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 287,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeR/pseuds/TheVeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystery Skulls travel cross country hitting paranormal hotspots with the goal of confirming local rumors or debunking frauds.  The group has had the oppurtunity to document a wide spectrum of authentic activity - some spirits uncertain, others lost or confused, many shackled by regret, and there remain those fueled by an insatiable fury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

##### 

Simpler

The flutter and murmurs churned in the back of his mind as he swayed. Below, years away, was a dark pit swirling with green coils of fog. The contrast lazed around sharp spikes that shimmered like deep galaxies full of stars glittering under a haze of light, with no feasible origin. As if the shadows had peeled back from his eyes to reveal what he had no desire to witness. A truth so solid and cold, as only life could deliver in its most critical and indiscriminate moment.

Pain burned through his arm, embers igniting in each nerve as they were severed one by one. Arthur groaned in his daze and gripped his wrist, or tried to. He couldn’t feel his arm. And he could scarcely hear the echoes that clattered off the walls of the cavern. Arthur remembered thinking, _Shit. It hurts so much_. He didn’t understand why or what he had done, but he was suddenly alone.

Lewis was gone.

He was there a second ago, doing something. Arthur’s heart throbbed harder when he realized he couldn’t recall the most recent events. There was a blank spot, and then the pain. Lewis said something to him and then—

No.

“Lewis?” Arthur shrieked. “Lewis!” He dropped to his knees at the edge leaning far forward, so far he nearly lost his balance as he screamed into the vaporous waves below. “Lewis!” Arthur inhaled the dusty air, and a throaty cackle bubbled out of his lungs. He was laughing hysterically and sobbing, the sensation so awful to his mind he began shrieking until his throat felt parched and needles punctured his lungs. “For god’s sake Lewis, answer me! I said ANSWER—”

The sizzling torment pulsing up his arm vanished in an instant. It was replaced by an emptiness and a sense of falling. _This can’t be happening_ , Arthur remembers thinking. _It’s too awful. Too awful_.

__

The old back road was littered with segments of advanced deterioration, but hardly any other vehicles used the out of the way roads so Arthur could steer the van onto the center stripe where the asphalt still clung together. The three of them sat in silence for the drive, Arthur vouching to drive first and get them away from the area; Vivi sat curled up against the passenger door staring out the window as the gnarled trees flashed by, an occasional bird would flash by in the early dawn. Mystery had selected to hop into the open back of the van and lay curled up, presumably just under the passenger seat. The orange sun seemed to rise quicker as the hours worked by, until it was full and yellow in the cloud burdened sky.

Sometimes Arthur would notice Vivi begin to shake, and he would glance over in time to see his friend bury her face down into the soft folds of her scarf. Arthur said nothing, he didn’t sense he was allowed to after all that had happened. True he wanted to speak with Vivi, comfort her and fulfill the promise he made to her back in the mansion. But it wasn’t the time. A part of him hoped she would forget again, forget the place of memories, solitude, and resentment. But that would be selfish, and Arthur was done with that. Selfishness had ruined them in the first place. He wondered though if he was being too hard on himself, but the recollection of months in rehab, the funeral – everything crashed back into him in a new wave of agony and he couldn’t bear it. 

Vivi was mourning Lewis for the first time, Arthur reckoned, and the delicate scars that decorated his memories were torn asunder. How would they get through this? Arthur wondered. How could they go on now?

A small concern did nip at Arthur. If they left these old roads, would Vivi forget? Would it trigger her memory loss? That enigma did eat away at him.

“It’s so weird.” Vivi’s voice spooked Arthur. He had been so accustomed to the engine of the van and the rattle of rocks kicking into the undercarriage, Arthur had forgotten other sounds existed. He turned to Vivi as she gazed through the windshield at nothing, her magenta glasses murky with dry tears. “I can’t remember anything about him, but I still miss him so much. I don’t get it.”

There was shuffling in the back seat, before Mystery poked his head over the passenger seat and whimpered to Vivi.

Vivi went on, “When we were in the mansion, I remember seeing a mirror.” Vivi kneaded the end of her scarf between her fingers. “My eyes were gone, but I felt a connection to the reflection. Like, that was the real me but,” She sighed and sat for a moment. In the place of her voice the engine hummed, patiently waiting for her to resume. “I didn’t want it to be. It scared me.”

Arthur waited a few moments. It wasn’t safe but he was driving with one arm, his mechanical prosthetic lay across his lap and near useless due to the abuse it suffered. His body ached but he didn’t notice it then, probably due to his lack of sleep and high level of anxiety. The rush of adrenalin hadn’t died down yet.

“Did you wanna talk?” Arthur asked.

Vivi shook her head and adjusted herself. Mystery leaned up over the seat more to lick at the top of her blue hair, as Vivi sank down into quivers. “Not yet,” she whispered.

“Take your time,” Arthur assured. “I’m not going anywhere.” He winced inwardly after he said that. It was his fault. It was all his fault.

It was late morning when they finally left the back roads and made it into one of the small towns that still lingered at the edge of oblivion. The town was about one courthouse and one gas station, but it did have a few restaurants for the obscure or lost passer-byer. None of the group felt much want for nourishing their over taxed bodies, but Arthur stopped anyway to pick up some fries and shakes, and a burger for Mystery. 

They sat on the back bumper in the large parking lot of a dollar store, picking at their food and turning eyes to the overcast sky. Anything to avoid a conversation that would designate some normality had been restored. Mystery ate about half of his burger before he lay his head down on his paws and stared up at his companions.

“Vivi,” Arthur asked. By now Arthur had put his arm in a sling and this made people stare at him more frequently than when it was just his prosthetic. He didn’t mind. “Do you think things will ever be the same between us again?” Vivi had the lid of her milkshake off and was drinking the froth down. She looked at Arthur, prompting him to continue. “I’ve tried.” He looked over when Vivi tugged at his sleeve.

“It will,” Vivi said. “You’ll see.”

Arthur lowered his head more, his metal thumb poked at one of the fries in the box he held. He could still work the fingers, and raise the arm some. Make it useful. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Vivi released his sleeve and set her hand back on the cool sides of her beverage. “Ask me later.”

Arthur bobbed his head a bit, while he began rearranging the fries by shape and color with his good hand. “I love you,” he mumbled.

Vivi leaned her shoulder into his. “I love you too.” And for a while they watched the occasional car roll by on the main road through the town.

They had been done eating for an hour, merely poking at their food in a vain attempt to make it disappear rather than the valid effort of consumption. In these cases the stale french-fry tastes better than the freshly cooked order. There were a lot of orders of stale fries in the past and their presence remained consistent into the future. They watched traffic for a bit longer before Arthur decided to take the van around and fuel up, while Vivi and Mystery disposed of the trash at the stores front. Much wasn’t said, it was routine when Arthur made the comment that the van needed fuel. 

With the bare minimal of necessities replenished it was back to the long roads of aimless travel, of navigation and waiting, watching and thinking. Vivi trying to come to terms with the contradiction of her thoughts, and failing; Arthur struggling to make some peace with himself, and failing harder. For a while Mystery had sat up front beside Arthur, head on Arthur’s lap and staring up at his companion over the rim of his amber glasses. When Arthur had reached a fidgety hand to Mystery’s head, Mystery had judged his presence was more of a hazard and without a sound sprang into the back of the van.

Back amongst the tall gnarled trees, it felt to Vivi like they had never stopped in the first place. The thought crept into her mind and she began to panic. Vivi thought to ask Arthur if they had stopped, had they gotten gasoline to keep them going? Had they already eaten today? The details were foggy in her head, she couldn’t decide if the town existed or not, like the mansion. The mansion in the woods was never real, but she remembered a place like it from her childhood. She and Arthur had gone to a place like it before when they were little, and Mystery too. Mystery was always with her wherever she went.

There had been someone else, hadn’t there? She couldn’t remember his face. And the mirror. Each of them had taken turns looking into the mirror, she remembered that part vividly like she was there right now. His reflection, though. What was his reflection?

The van began to sway on the road. Vivi looked over to Arthur unsettled as the van began to decelerate and pull over to a clear spot on the roadside. Dust kicked up and the heavy tires growled through the overgrown weeds as he brought them to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, as he slumped over the steering wheel. “I just got to stop and rest some.” Mystery poked his head over the seat to see what the problem was, and Arthur gave the dog a gentle scratch.

“That’s fine,” Vivi said. She began to feel the faint drowsiness that infected Arthur, as it made itself known to her heavy eyelids. “I’m amazed you got us this far.” She began to clamber over the seat to the back of the van, but stopped and looked back at Arthur. “Maybe…” she hesitated, and thought about the mirror. “Maybe Lewis wanted us far away from there?”

Arthur kept his eyes downcast as he fiddled with his arm in the sling. “He wanted you away from there,” he said, and shook his head. “He doesn’t give a crap about me.” Arthur turned his head up when Vivi set a hand on the back of his neck.

“I think,” Vivi began, her voice soft, “I think he was trapped for too long.” It was then that Vivi realized she had no idea how long Lewis had been gone. “And that evil entity may have gotten ahold of him like it did with you, before we ever showed up.” Mystery popped back down behind the seat as Vivi joined him in the back. She leaned over to Arthur as he sat in silence. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Arthur leaned onto the steering wheel more, the old plastic covering smelled of the hands of dozen nameless faces and cold coffee. “Yeah,” he muttered. Arthur only raised his gaze when Mystery leapt over the seat to join him. “Hey Mystery.” He closed his eyes as the dog leaned over and licked at his brow. “Thanks bud.”

The back of the van had thin carpet and was not the most comfortable place in the world, but it saved money, and more than often between the tag-team driving, they couldn’t in all sanity reach a motel before crashing - in the figurative sense – on a random back road was necessary. The sparse few electrical equipment owned by Mystery Skulls was stored on the floor where one could work while the other drove, a few side cuvees on the walls of the van held necessities such as extension cords and their travel luggage, backpacks of supplies, extra flashlights, and many other items deemed useful to long road trips and investigating the paranormal. 

Viv moved some of the discarded gear bags aside as she lugged out her ruffled sleeping bag and worked to put it into some order before she lay down. The walls of the van were insulated enough to keep out the harsh temperature variations of the high noon sun, but she still pulled out another blanket in case she fought free of her cocoon. Unlike the front of the van in the tinted windshield and the sunlight crashing through, the vans back was fairly cool and comfortable. It boggled her mind how Arthur could sleep in the direct sunlight the way he did, but the way Arthur twisted about in his dead sleep she never probed him about it. Then again, Arthur was skittish when it came to the shadows and confined areas, and perhaps waking to an open window and sunlight set him to ease. Vivi did wonder though.

Before snuggling down into her warm nest, Vivi removed her glasses and set them beside the wall of the van within easy reach. In the front seat she could hear Arthur settle down, Mystery probably already curled up on his lap and resting comfortably. Vivi couldn’t remember when Mystery had begun to keep close to Arthur, but now suspected it must have had something to do with the accident. Mystery was a mysterious and intuitive creature, it didn’t come as a surprise to her anymore. 

A thought came to Vivi as she edged towards dark and placid ripples in her thoughts. She raised her voice until she thought Arthur was listening. “You think it’s safe to stop here?” she mumbled.

A heavy sigh came from the front of the van. “I don’t know.”

Vivi thought about it for a moment, her eyes slipped shut and she felt her mind falling, diving into the warmth and comfort of oblivion. “Okay,” she said. Maybe she should be worried, but they had been through too much to consider further dangers rationally. If a threat was present, it could wait until they had rested for just a bit.

Those that studied dreams would argue that even when dreams are not recalled, the mind still dreams. Vivi always disagreed with that and would tell Arthur that she only counted the dreams, if they could be remembered. There were no dreams for a long time to Vivi perception, and she began to forget the day’s events, her mind wiping away the hurt and the sorrow until it was replaced with happier memoirs. Investigating a potentially dangerous case, sending in reports, contending with a tenacious spirit, unmasking a disgruntled employee, editing photography - the excitement of adventures and traveling, long road trips with friends.

Always it felt like something was missing.

Vivi opened her eyes to a wall of black. It took a few minutes for her sense of setting to upload and she recalled that they had stopped to rest and now it was dark. The sun set some time ago but that didn’t shock her, they had been beyond their limits to begin with and had kept going. Driven onward, as Vivi had coined the term. She felt moisture under the blanket her face was curled up in and knew she must’ve been dreaming something good. A sense of peace filled her, but she knew it would be a short reprieve. Unfairly short.

Though the light of the half-moon was cutting through the windshield there was little of her immediate surroundings that made sense to her, but for the bags and luggage shuffled around from her sleep. Vivi pushed herself up to shift some of the soreness out of her side, and was startled when she felt a tug at her scalp. She froze in the dark aware now that something was amiss. She couldn’t see yet but she could sense it, a presence.

Vivi let herself relax. There was Arthur or Mystery. One or both of them could have gotten tired laying in the sun and crawled into the back. But, as Vivi prodded her perimeter with her available senses, she could swear Arthur’s comatose snores were coming from the front seat. 

She fumbled along the stiff carpet for her glasses and put them on. Vivi nearly screamed.

A bleached skull lay on its side mere inches from where her own head had been resting. But as Vivi examined its features and the clothing beside the inert thing, her mind began to recognize the characteristics. She reached out and placed her hand upon the sleeve that had been beside her head. It felt solid but not quite, like dry ice or thick smoke. Between the two. The moonlight glistened over ribs protruding from the side of its coat but the prone shape was dark and still, its back pressed into the wall of the van.

“ _I’m dreaming,_ ” Vivi thought. “ _This is just a dream._ ” She wished it wasn’t. The disappointment of her comprehension stung, nearly the same as the many times she thought she could pull an artifact of significant interest with her from a dream and when she awoke, her hands were empty.

Vivi pulled her blanket with her as she crawled over to the silent ghost. She poked at the solid looking shoulder a few times, feeling how airless and empty they seemed. It was fascinating, but not uplifting. New tears slid down her cheeks as she curled up beside the exposed ribs, when Vivi was comfortable enough she gripped at the coat and held on tightly.

“Not this time,” Vivi whispered, “it’ll be different.” She was so tired of crying, but the pain was unbearable. She wondered, as she fell back into the deep pit of dark memories, if she would ever stop crying. Or if she would continue to resent Arthur for what he had done.

As the hours ticked away, Arthur must have fallen into the persistent nightmares he couldn’t seem to escape. Vivi recalled he had nightmares often, she couldn’t recall much of what Arthur babbled about between twitching restlessness but he was always screaming and crying. Vivi would ask if he wanted to talk about it but Arthur would always refuse, his body stiff and his good arm clutched at the wrist of his prosthetic. Now she understood why.

This was different. Arthur’s panic had escalated as if he was being skinned alive, and it awoke Vivi fully. She might have to throttle him to break him from the attack, and surprisingly it had worked in the past.

There was so much noise and confusion Vivi couldn’t get a grip of what she was looking at. A dark shape was huddled at the back seat, and beyond its sides she could just make out the wild movements of Arthur as he tried to dig his way out of the driver side door. Arthur’s cries remained little less than animalistic shrieks, but Vivi could pick out words, “kill” and “sorry,” among the rapid stammers that Arthur might have mistaken for speech.

“What’s happening?” Vivi yelped. Her question went unanswered as Arthur’s voice broke into sobs.

“Did you really think I was gone?” a low voice snarled.

There was a click, as Vivi guessed, Arthur figured out how to operate the door and was taking off. “Arthur! Wait! Who—” Vivi stopped herself as the skull swiveled back to give her a look she did not understand. The skull was vacant of identification, but for soft and distant pink light within the deep eye sockets.

Then it was gone. Through the wall of the van pursuing Arthur, if his peeling shrieks were any indication.

“I am through with you!” The voice again.

Vivi lunged to the front of the van searching for the two figures, but didn’t see them through the windshield. On the floorboard of the passenger side was Mystery huddled down, his white fur unmistakable under the silver moonlight above. Vivi ducked away to the back of the van doors, screaming, “Wait! W-wait! Lewis!” She thrust her shoulder to the door when the latch held. It sometimes got stuck if the lock wasn’t pulled up all the way. She jerked the lock up and jammed her knee to the door. “Don’t kill Arthur! Lewis! DON’T!”

She was losing her mind. This wasn’t a dream, it had never been a dream. She was cuddling up to the phantom that wanted to kill one of her few living friends, and now she had to stop vengeance incarnate. That’s what he was now, wasn’t he? Lewis? A wraith. He wouldn’t stop until Arthur was dead. Rationally speaking, he couldn’t stop. That’s what a vengeful wraith was.

“Arthur! Lew! Wait!” As Vivi tore out of the open back and stumbled across the rocky ground, she could hear the thump-thud of shoes and an eerie scraping on the van’s roof. It reminded her of the urban legend of the girl and her boyfriend out in the woods, parked under a tree.

“I swear! I didn’t do anything!” Arthur shrieked. He was already sliding to the opposite side of the vans roof, away from the fearsome spirit gliding around the side of the vehicle. It looked odd with its gaze fixed on Arthur and moving, but not rising up to catch the panic stricken victim. “It’s a misunderstanding!” Arthur said, out of Vivi’s sight. “I – juz – geh — LISTEN!”

A guttural howl came from the other side of the van, once the spirit had decided to fade through the amber walls to cut Arthur off. Vivi dashed around the backside in time to snare the sleeve of the spirits arm and shook its bleached hands away from Arthur’s leg.

“Stop it! Stop it now!” Vivi screamed. She forced herself between the vans side beneath Arthur’s feet, and the annoyed glare of the spirit, scorching focus now fixed down on her. “That’s enough,” Vivi said.

Lewis’ eye sockets blazed brighter as he lowered his arms. “I swore I would never hurt you,” he said. “But he has gone too far this time!” Lewis jabbed a finger over Vivi’s head, in the direction of Arthur. Vivi refused to lower her eyes from the spirits eye sockets.

“Tell me,” Vivi said, voice low, “what he did this time.”

Lewis, if possible, appeared disgusted as he shifted back and set his boots down on solid ground. “He took my locket,” he said, and in the same instant Arthur shrieked out:

“I didn’t take it! I didn’t!” Arthur moved his legs away from the van’s edge, and away from the ghosts reach. “I protected it. I… I’m, it was for Vivi.”

Vivi took her eyes off the hovering skull and looked back at Arthur. Arthur’s prosthetic hung pitifully across his lap and dragged when he moved his shoulder, causing more eerie scraps to come from the vans metal.

“You don’t remember? Do you?” Arthur said. He didn’t move forward, but Vivi could detect a note of disappointment and sadness in his voice. “Lew. The locket is your anchor? Isn’t it?”

Lewis’ rage had not dispersed remotely. He hissed through his jaw at the question. “That’s why you tried to take it,” he accused.

“I didn’t take it!” Arthur snapped. “You can’t remember, or maybe you won’t. But when that evil spirit possessed you it tried to… it was going to break it.” Arthur fumbled with the loose fingers of his metal arm, trying not to meet the gaze of the spirit.

Lewis leaned back, the moonlight fluttered through the vacant holes of his skull. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” He sneered, “I can’t be possessed like you.” 

“But…you were,” Vivi said. Her mind went back, rewinding to the moment when Arthur was gone, when she had lost him too. What had Arthur said before that? “ _I wasn’t the target. It wanted Lewis._ ” The thing in the cave wanted souls, it stole souls in every manner possible. Humans were worthless. But….

“You really don’t remember,” Vivi said. Lewis turned his skull down to her, his aggression melted away. “You threw Arthur out a window when he tried to stop you. When he tried to save you.” Vivi took a step toward the spirit and he recoiled, skull lifting higher above his collar. “Then you attacked me.” Lewis stared at her with no note of comprehension in his bleached skull.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Lewis said. “I would never. I couldn’t.” An odd expression bloomed in the hard white features, odd and unbefitting to the recent ferocity that had burned so brightly before.

“But you did,” Vivi insisted. “Or, it tried. You resisted.”

“You’re wrong,” Lewis whispered. He retreated from Vivi a few inches and began to fade. “No. No. Never in—” Lewis regained some of his solidity when Vivi took one of his hands.

“I thought you left,” Vivi murmured. She moved her hands over his hand until she gripped his fingers in hers. “I thought you were lost.” She pulled his hand to her face and pressed his knuckles to her forehead. “Don’t leave me again.”

Lewis stared at her, eye sockets thinned, darkened, brooding. He lowered his free hand a bit as he curled his fingers tightly, and opened his fist again. Lewis did this a few times, imitating a slowly thudding heart, before he tore the captive hand from Vivi’s grasp and wrapped her up in his heavy arms. Vivi shook as she cried into his coat. “Don’t leave,” she begged. “Please, no more empty dreams. I just want you. Don’t disappear.”

Lewis lowered his skull to her head and cooed, “Shh. I’m here. See? Please don’t cry, mi arandano.” He stroked her back and adjusted his skull, nearly perched upon her head. “I never wanted you to shed tears over me.”

As silent as a shadow, Arthur slipped off the side of the van and away from the two. Arthur cradled his metal arm to his chest until he was on the gravel, over on the opposite side of the van and stationary. Without a glance back, he gave a shallow sigh and climbed into the open driver door. Mystery was still there, curled down in his spot on the passenger floorboard. Mystery raised his head as Arthur climbed over the seat and into the vans back, careful not to make the vehicle shift under his weight.

In the dark Arthur fumbled for a flashlight in one of the cuvees of the vans side. When he found it he snapped on the flashlights pale yellow beam, and began going through the bags shoved beside the vans wall. He paused, listening to the steady tempo that was muffled but present on the air. He found the bag that the sound lifted from and opened the zipper, a few bottles and a small tape recorder was in the way, but he easily located the spare shirt he had wrapped the glossy locket in before he packed it away. When he pried back the edge of the shirt, the soft sky blue sheen reflected off his face and Arthur felt the glean swell up behind his eyes. He set the flashlight aside and sat on his knees, as he held the weightless heirloom in his palms watching it gently quiver with the same pace of his own heart. Arthur wondered if it was the same for Vivi. When she was drawn to it, was it because she felt the same steady thrum in her chest?

Arthur clutched the glistening heart to his chest. He sat for all the time in the world recalling good memories, fun times. All in the past, too many generations ago; so distant they might as well have been wishful dreams he could never exist in. When Arthur looked up, a white face was peering over the backseats at him. Mystery had his head tilted in a bored manner, and gave a large yawn when Arthur noticed him.

In due time, when he felt interrupting Vivi and Lewis would not be immediately life threatening, Arthur quietly climbed out from the back of the van and hid beside the open door. He cleared his throat and tensed, ready to bolt if that may extend his short life.

Lewis’ eyes blazed dark red when he turned to acknowledge his ‘friend,’ the light of those eyes glint in Vivi’s glasses. Arthur didn’t step out immediately, but he held up his hands and the locket still wrapped partially in the shirt. The look of utter betrayal in Lewis’ gaze hurt Arthur somewhere deep.

“I didn’t know,” Arthur began. He chided himself not to look into those burning eyes, or his soul would tear free of its own body. “But I did know I couldn’t let it… break.” He felt his hands shaking as he raised the locket to Lewis, strained between protecting himself and returning the possession. “I was going to give it to Vivi, when the time was right.”

Lewis gazed on Arthur’s with tangible distrust, as if pending for the exact moment Arthur would shatter the gently thrumming heart between his bare hands. He still held Vivi in his arms, as if protecting her from the inevitable event. After a long moment of debate, Lewis raised one hand from Vivi. Arthur flinched back but held his ground; he could feel what weight the locket did have fade from his palms. Arthur shuffled forward fearful it would fall, but the locket did not. The pulsing shape swayed under the silver moonlight toward Lewis’ awaiting finger tips. With a gentle gesture of his hand, the glimmering heirloom fastened itself just above the ribs of Lewis’ suit and there it stayed.

“Thank you,” Lewis said softly, skull averted. Arthur made to speak but Lewis cut his voice off with the slight raise of his hand. “This… it’s not the time for that.”

As the night continued to drift by, the three stood in silence mulling over their personal existence and current standings, as if sentinels to the watchtower awaiting the scourge of gravediggers to the cemetery below. Vivi couldn’t bring herself to untangle from Lewis’ solid arms, and Arthur remained steady but unsure of how to approach the barrage of anguish that littered his mind.

“Did you like the mansion?” Lewis asked, at last. His sudden voice from nowhere caused Arthur to spook and knock the door with his metal arm, generating an audible and pleasant resonance. To Lewis’ question, Vivi nodded and gave a small smile. She placed her hand over the blue locket on his coat and felt the warm little pulses it produced. “It’s gone,” Lewis supplied. Vivi sniggered. “You find that funny?”

“It’s the way you delivered it,” Vivi said. Lewis made an odd sound of acknowledgement that didn’t sound right.

The gravel crunched under Arthur’s feet as he turned away. “I’m going to get some more sleep,” he said. “Lewis.” Arthur peered around the open door enough to catch the harsh smolder of the eye sockets. “Don’t…” he hesitates, faltering under the irritated gaze. “Don’t go anywhere without telling me. Please?” Arthur wouldn’t leave until the skull gave a very miniscule bob.

“You won’t leave? Will you?” Vivi asked, as she pulled back from Lewis and looked into his eye sockets. The matter that he had not restored his plush hair style throughout their most recent interactions was not lost to Vivi. Faint fire burned in his eye sockets, but the skull remained bleached. It appeared off to her, since she never saw him without the style upon his scalp and she had attributed to his weakness. After he had— 

“Let’s sit for a while,” Lewis said, puncturing her thought bubble. “And enjoy the night.”

This didn’t bode well in Vivi’s mind, but she walked with Lewis to the back of the van. Arthur was silent at his usual post at the front, either asleep or pretending, but Lewis didn’t seem bothered at this point. With Vivi cradled in his arms, Lewis glides back a few feet before settling down. The effort seemed to take a toll on Lewis, but he makes no comment and is content to keep his arms folded over Vivi. Together they stare out onto the long dark road that was bypassed earlier that day. No traffic was out this late, not on these old forgotten roads. They were alone and isolated here, and for them it was safe. 

The wind whistled through the bare tree branches, and Lewis made an odd whistling sound with them. For a short time Vivi tried to discern if he was making the sound on purpose, or if the wind was cutting over the exposed teeth of his skull face. Maybe to a normal person it would look morbid or frightening, but to Vivi it was Lewis. This was Lewis.

Vivi curled up more into his arms and out of the breeze, and listened to the soft thrumming of the locket. “If you leave,” she warned. “I’ll find you somehow.”

Lewis seemed to melt around her, his skull again nestling down onto her head. “Pease don’t,” he hummed.

“You can’t stop me,” Vivi said. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the soft magenta tie he wore. “We’re you… buried in this suit?” she whispered, fingers gripping the edges of his coat. When she woke up, he would be there, she willed it. Dream or not, it didn’t matter.

“I don’t know,” Lewis admitted.

Vivi sighed. “It’s nice.” She would never let go. Even if it was one more day, or one more year, there was still time. Time enough left to reflect and remake lost memories, and turn the minutes into years and the hours into lifetimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was blown away. Squigglydigg did fanart for this chapter. Take a walk through their blog, see if there's anything you like
> 
> http://squigglydigg.tumblr.com/post/105915591277/i-swore-i-would-never-hurt-you-he-said-but
> 
> ps. My apologies. i know not how to insert links or make the link easier to follow. Guidance or a firm slap, one or bother would be appreciated in my time of need


	2. Chapter 2

##### 

Edge

The van was moving when Vivi came to. She didn’t feel the vibrations crackling through the undercarriage, so she decided they must have moved onto a smoother pavement, maybe closer to home. Vivi wanted to laugh. What was home these days?

Voices flutter back and forth, distant and beyond her reception as her brain worked to shrug off the fog of memories from the previous evening. She felt annoyance at the recollection.

“S’you don’t like the sun?” That was Arthur’s voice.

“It’s tolerable,” another voice. “But it’s hard to enjoy when you’ve lost your eyelids.” The bite of that comment sent the conversation flat. There was a short span of silence, then Vivi heard the unmistakable sounds of shuffling around in the cup holder.

“Would some sunglasses help?” Arthur asked, the pitch in his voice changing as he leaned over into the back of the van. “These aren’t great, but I’ll get you some better ones later.”

Vivi felt her position shift and uncoiled a bit in response. She turned her face up to the skull, magenta eyes brightening as they fell on her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Lewis leaned over to take the thick lensed glasses that Arthur held back.

“I was already awake,” Vivi mumbled. She gave her eyelids a gentle rub before she raised her attention back to Lewis, who was inspecting the glasses he had been handed. Vivi bit her lip and tried not to smile.

“What?” Arthur called, when he picked up on the tension. Vivi covered her mouth. No argument Lewis was at a disadvantage when it came to expressions as just a fleshless skull, but somehow he managed to express so much.

“Do you have a death wish, Arthur?” Lewis hissed.

Vivi lost it at the horrible squeak Arthur expelled. “What’d I do this time?!!”

“Arthur,” Vivi chimed. “Lewis has no ears.” 

There was a brief pause as Arthur’s mind sort of clicked. Sort of. “Vivi,” he chirped, “you’re awake? Oh wait….”

“It’s fine,” Lewis said. He was sporting his pink fluff hairstyle that seemed solid, if it were made by his spiritual fire. “I’ll figure something out.” Lewis tried a few times, but failed to make the glasses stay on the edge of his nose. He inevitably gave up and perched the sunglasses on the edge of one of the cuvees in the vans wall.

The vans occupants resumed their silent contemplative thoughts, as the vehicle rattled down the road. Vivi began to wonder how long they’d been traveling, and when it was that they resumed. The time at current must have been noon, warm sunlight soaked through the windshield and filled the interior of the vans back quarters. There was no sign of Mystery, the pup was probably in the front seat with Arthur.

“Sleep well?” Lewis asked.

Vivi tilted her head back to meet the glimmering flames inside the eye sockets. It took a moment for her mind to reset and sift through the events of the previous days, what she had learned and what she understood of her relationship with the late Lewis. Sudden clarity struck her, and she felt afraid for some unexplained reason. Beyond the haze of influence that area, that zone, had injected in her mind, she found her perception shifting. It was an unpleasant sensation.

“Yeah, I did,” Vivi said. “How close are we to the college?”

Arthur answered, leaning up slightly from his seat. “About an hour, if I speed up,” he said.

Vivi nodded and thought carefully. She refused to raise her eyes to Lewis face as he watched her. “Lewis,” she says, “You said your home was gone?” The skull hesitated, before it bobbed in a nod. Vivi pondered more over this. The night had seemed like a dream, she had thought it was a dream. She knew now it wasn’t, Lewis was here. Finally, she inquires, “Did we kidnap you?”

Lewis seemed to blank out at this. Honestly, he had not considered the scenario critically enough, everything had happened too fast to consider (excuse the pun) being spirited away by former friends. He judged the delicate process of restoring his ‘essence’ had drained too much of him, and that had rendered him unable to consider marginal focus when one was trying to draw back their core and sense of self. This situation had occurred only rarely, maybe only twice in his new state of existence. Lewis wasn’t mortified to admit it himself that each and every time the sensation did occur, it had terrified him.

Until now, he hadn’t considered that he was just abducted - by friends of course, but his reluctant company was not anticipated by them and it amused him.

“I think… you did?” Lewis answered. Vivi slipped out of his arms, and he let her go. She sat against the wall of the van close to him, her gaze raised over the rim of her magenta spectacles.

“Are you okay with that?” she asked.

Lewis stared at her, trying to understand if there was hidden meaning in her interrogation. He could detect confusion in her aura, the hollowed pockets of her memories where once a Lewis existed. He felt the regret roll through his own soul, until he smothered it out with hot pink sparks. For Vivi, his expression did not shift in the slightest to indicate his inner woe.

“Yes,” Lewis said. “I think I am.” He glanced up and caught Arthur’s eyes peering at them, from within the rear view mirror. Arthur ducked back the moment Lewis had raised his attention.

“We’ve been talking, Vi,” Arthur said. “Just idle chit chat. Catching up.”

“Oh,” Vivi said, and Lewis made another odd sound that echoed in her mind. “A conversation segment I might not be able to follow along with?”

Arthur’s twinge was so palpable, Lewis decided Vivi must’ve felt it. It was true he and Arthur had discussed some aspects of Vivi’s memory loss and some of their old adventures together, while she was still asleep. Lewis had kept alert for the event Vivi may have spontaneously awoken, though he had used a small sliver of his power to keep her resting.

“Well, yeah,” Arthur admitted. “But only because you elected to sleep in. Otherwise, our conversation would have been the more appropriate… er, what do we do now?”

Lewis met Vivi’s stare when she turned back to him. They remained locked like this for what felt like hours, the van rattled and groaned as it chugged up and down hills. Vivi blinked fifteen times every few minutes; but Lewis didn’t blink, but the glow of his ethereal flames would dim and brighten.

Vivi’s eyes became unfocused, as if she’d forgotten what she was doing in the process of completing her task. “Lewis?” she said, as if seeing Lewis as he was for the first time in their little adventure. “You’re here.” Lewis wanted to sigh with exasperation. “No, I’m sorry,” Vivi quickly said. She shook her head and closed her eyes. “You’re here, with us. But do you know why?”

“No,” he said. Lewis reached up to tug at his sharp collar and adjusted the locket on his chest. “I have no idea.”

“Stop fidgeting,” Vivi said. She set her hands on his and guided his fists down to his knees. “It’ll be all right.”

“All right?” Lewis hissed. He chided himself, and adjusted the tone of his voice. He wanted to stab out and blame Arthur for this, but he couldn’t. “Nothing feels all right.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Vivi assured. She withdrew her hands but kept her eyes on Lewis. “Would you want us to return you to the place where we found you? Arthur, did you—”

“I was not going back,” Arthur cut in. This time he made a point to snag Vivi's gaze, when she caught Arthur's eyes framed in the rear view mirror in the vans front windshield. Arthur had his ‘I’m DONE with this’ face, the skin around his eyes seemed darker and his skin had gone gray. “And I did ask,” Arthur muttered, as his eyes darted back to the windshield and he adjusted their jagged movements on the road. It was bad policy to drive with one arm, and it was borderline lunacy to take your eyes off that road.

Lewis reached a hand up to cradle his skull. At the time he didn’t even care, he just wanted to stay with Vivi. Maybe that had been a mistake, he had never left that place since…. He woke up there. It was all he knew. He was so confused.

That’s why none of it mattered now, none of it. Vivi placed a hand on his and leaned toward his face. “It’s not the end of the world,” she said.

Lewis wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to burn a forest down, because his world was over. Now, he didn’t know what he was doing.

The sun was rising higher in the sky, dragging its light away from the interior of the van. Arthur made mention that they were getting into more traffic, as they moved from the back roads and returned to the populated highways. Without a word Lewis retreated into the back of the van away from Vivi, eyes glowing from the dark sockets of his skull. Vivi had watched his slow progress until he had reached the furthest corner, but didn’t question his movement. Lewis had seemed agitated and may need time to adjust, and she theorized being torn from his own territory may have jarred Lewis in some way. 

Vivi had her own theories and some testimonies from willing spirits, of those bound to specific areas regardless of their direct relationship to a zone. Most cases regarding spirits noted that they were unaware of this law prior to entering the afterlife and those spirits could not attest for why they would remain in a place of evident emotional trauma. Vivi’s concerns lay that Arthur had unwittingly uprooted Lewis and relocated him, without his consent. This incident could hinder a spirit in a psychological sense, but Lewis should be aware of this danger. But he was a spirit now, he couldn’t be aware of it in the same nature now as he was when he was alive, and now could be vague to those laws that spirits were compelled to obey.

Vivi’s head hurt.

“Do you remember The Frighteners?” Arthur’s voice cut through the low and rising drag of the engine, as he guides them through traffic.

Lewis raised his head a bit from the top of his collar. His skull had been idly swaying above the crisp white collar as if debating nesting in the neck of his suit. “Frighteners?” Lewis echoed. “Wha—”

“The Frighteners,” Arthur cut in. “The movie. Remember? You and Vivi made me watch it.” His voice trailed off, as Arthur recalled the unpleasant experience. Or was it Arthur’s own realization that Vivi would not remember? “Viv?”

“I remember,” she answered, with hesitance. “That’s the sci-fi with Michael J. Fox, playing as a medium? Or something.”

“That’s the one,” Arthur says. “Frank has that Ghostbusting business, because he can communicate with the ghosts.”

Lewis made a sound that could have been a grumble, or a growl. “If you’re going to suggest what I think—” Arthur cut him off again.

“No, no!” he pipes up. “But maybe if we’re running dry on some leads, we could—” Arthur’s voice cut off into half shrieks, as he stuffed his shoulders down somewhere beneath the headrest of the seat. There was honking as the van swerved between yelps of, “Sorry,” or “not serious!” Apparently Arthur had taken a shift in the tension as Lewis’ preparation to retaliate, but Vivi had seen no movement from the brooding spirit as he swayed in his corner, his shoulders fading into the sides of the van due to the erratic movement. Arthur’s anxiety could have just been on a steady rise and his attempt at friendly conversation to ease his unease had the opposite effect? Whatever motives or rhyme, they were going to crash if Arthur didn’t get control over himself. He seemed hopeless at this point.

Vivi threw herself to the front seat and took the wheel in both hands, struggling to get them straightened out on the road. “Move over!” She crawled over the seat as Arthur shuffled over, pushing Mystery on the middle seat aside with his transfer and dragging the broken prosthetic at his shoulder. The van was still in cruise mode so Vivi didn’t need to stuff her foot to the accelerator, she just needed to make sure they wouldn’t slam into some idiot that decide to stop on the highway in front of a big, swerving van. “You’re good!” she snapped. “Take it easy! Just chill and re’ax.”

Arthur curled up around Mystery in the passenger seat. Once settled Arthur didn’t take his eyes off Vivi, face pale and eyes glassy.

“Holy shit,” Vivi sighed. She shut her eyes to run a hand over her face. Vivi wanted to probe further into the conversation Arthur and Lewis had exchanged while she was asleep. The topic of what had happened in the cave at the forefront of her thoughts, she yearned to ask about it and what the two may have discussed over it while she was asleep. But given the disturbed look Arthur now offered, she decided that the time had not come up. Possibly, the topic was skirted over and avoided like a plague, which at this current time it was. If Vivi knew her history, and she usually did, direct confrontation of the subject would benefit no one until it had lost some of its potency. Or a potential vaccine was synthesized.

“Is it just Frighteners, or The Frighteners?” Vivi asked, hoping to slay the thick apprehension coating the air and walls.

“The Frighteners,” Arthur squeaked.

“Okay.” Vivi reached an arm over and wrapped her hand around Arthur’s metal wrist, just under the little black band he wore. He stared at her hand, eyes still vacant. “Lewis,” she called. Arthur gave her a distrustful glare, but Vivi ignored it. “Later, can I take your picture? We can all take a picture together.” Mystery nudged her hand with his cold snout, before returning his chin to Arthur’s thigh.

From the back of the van, Lewis answered with a toneless, “No.”

“A personal photo,” Vivi went on. Traffic on the highway was getting thicker and she needed to keep her eyes fixed to the road, as cars slowed or weaved around slower vehicles. She saw the large green sign overhead that labeled off the roads, and the one highway she needed to exit off onto. They were a town away from the college, ten miles.

“Maybe,” Lewis answered. “Lemme give it some thought.” His voice faded out.

“Would he even show up?” Arthur muttered. He said this quietly, as if to keep Lewis from overhearing. “Or… what?”

Vivi looked over briefly and shrugged.

It was twenty minutes of silence, before they hit the town where in which stood the university that at current funded the Mystery Skulls research. It wasn’t as rooted in physicality as Harvard, or as esteemed as Princeton, but the school offered a lot of leniency and was an upgrade from the freelance work Vivi’s group undertook when they first started. 

The university was up in its age, with new departments and renovations taking up some of the outdated sections. Rent homes and small community housing was set up around the perimeter of the school, and the roads were small and demanded below fifteen mile an hour travel. It took some time before Vivi found a descent parking space on a road, amongst parked vehicles from others students on campus. Up under some fall driven leaves, splashed with golds and ambers that could match the textures of the van. It was a nice cool, somewhat secluded, and peaceful spot to park.

“Is this good enough?” Vivi asked, as she peered up and out of the tilted windshield. Arthur mumbled an affirmative, his good hand stroking Mystery’s ears. “Cool.” Vivi didn’t move immediately, but drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as the engine of the van hummed. After some time she turned the key and took it from the ignition, and then spun around in her seat to peer into the back. 

“Lewis?” Vivi said. “Have you… been here before?”

“Depends,” he said. He seemed to hover up to see through Vivi and the windshield behind her. “Where are we?”

Arthur hastily gave the name of the university, and when the three of them, excluding Lewis, had begun research for them. “They don’t ask a lot of us,” Arthur went on. “Mostly, they pay all our gas. They never knew about you. Vivi?” Arthur looked to the blue haired girl in the driver seat.

Vivi fumbled a bit, turning back to Lewis before she resumed. “I don’t remember what it was like without you, Lew. I just don’t.” At a loss for what more to say, she asks, “So… well, did you want to come in with us?”

Lewis cocked one eye at her. “Like this?”

Vivi shook her head. “Can’t you make yourself look… like you did before? Alive?” 

To this, Lewis seemed disbelieving, or suspicious. He tilts his skull the other way. “What?”

Vivi sighed and held her hands up. “I saw you in the mansion,” she says, gesturing, “when you banished the evil spirit – demon. You looked human, but I don’t think all the way to who you were. I don’t know. But, you did look like flesh, and solid. You didn’t know you could do that – or, that you did that then?”

An odd crackle came from Lewis, like a dry scoff. “If I did, don’t you think I would use that ability now?”

“Well,” Vivi said, as she adjusted her hair band. “Afterwards, you did sort of vanish.” She shuddered at the memory. “Never mind. We won’t be gone long.” She reached out of Lewis sight and when she leaned back up, it was with Mystery clasped in her hands. Vivi set Mystery in the back. “Mystery will keep you company.”

Lewis watched Mystery pad over to him and stop to sit before him. The dog stared up at his skull, and Lewis glowered back. Meanwhile, Vivi leaned over the seats back, nearly kicking Arthur in the face as she rummaged around for the laptop stashed under the passenger seat.

“Viv, please,” Arthur grumbled. “You know, I still need to go by my place and get parts to repair my arm.”

“Later,” Vivi said. She climbed over Arthur and out the passenger door. “We need a check first.” After Arthur had flopped out, Vivi poked her head back in to check on Lewis one last time. “You won’t go anywhere? Right?”

Lewis looked over Mystery’s head to the concerned eyes locked on him. “Blueberry, I promise you I won’t disappear.” With these last reassuring words, or echoes, Vivi slammed the door shut. From the walls Lewis could hear Arthur’s whining:

“I don’t think this’ll be worth much,” he said.

“It’s a great photo,” Vivi said. “There was a ghost. We have the docs typed up. They can’t say no.”

“But if Lewis were to—” 

Vivi’s sharp voice cut Arthur off, “He is not some attraction we can pawn off!”

Arthur pleaded back, their collective voices fading from range, “I don’t mean photos of Lewis. If he just spooked something. Made Saint Elmo flames, it can't hurt..”

Lewis would smirk if he could. Arthur had always been excellent with debunking faux reports, or finding the intricate scientific explanations in a case in which the skittish home owners thought they were spooked but in truth, it was just a draft or some leaky pipes. Complete waste of time, but Arthur always brought the logical explanation of a case to the forefront before too much time was wasted.

That was before.

And then, there was now. Lewis tucked into the back of a van, thinking, as he reached a hand out to pet Mystery. The dog, or whatever he was, raised his muzzle to press into Lewis’ palm. “Do you remember me?” he asked, as he ran his hand down Mystery’s shoulders. “Or did I make you forget too? Or don’t you care?” Mystery turned his head away from Lewis’ sleeve and looked the skull in the face, recognition and deep cognition buried in those red eyes.

Lewis had to avert his gaze. It had been a mistake. But at the time he didn’t know what else to do, what would be possible. Ripped, confused, disorientated, he had felt himself adrift in thoughts and emotions. Raw, in a sense. What did it feel like to be raw? What did that even mean? Torn from your skin, a deep sense of loss and losing piece by piece, scattered on the cold drafts of that gloomy place. He had reached out for one person, but her sense of concentration was as butchered as his sense of physical presence. It was selfish, but Lewis… that was the first time he had ever felt pure, condensed terror. It was then that Lewis realized the penitential truth of existence. When you die, you still don’t know what happens after death. It—

A sharp yelping and sharp pricks in his sleeve tore Lewis from his daze. His fingers snapped open, though it didn’t hurt, he instantly sympathized with Mystery’s pain and released the scruff of his neck. “I’m sorry!” he snapped.

Mystery unsnagged his teeth from the sleeve and jerked back, but didn’t flee or make further sounds. Once he recovered, Mystery gave Lewis a curious frown before approaching again and sitting beside his knee. The dog raised his dark paw to set it on Lewis’ thigh and tilt his snout a little higher to the spirits face. Skull.

Lewis set his hand on the dogs paw and rested back, in what may have been a more comfortable position. He heard Mystery whine, and the dog started pawing at his hand with his free paw. Lewis decided he didn’t like the contact with his hand and removed it, but Mystery leaned over to snag his glove with his sharp canines. Lewis narrowed his eye sockets, frowning as Mystery tugged at his hand. It was obnoxious if it was anything.

“What?” Lewis said. His eyes flicker as Mystery spun away and began nosing around the walls of the van, going between the left and right sides as if searching for something in the cuvees. “What is it?” Lewis glides over to the dog, but not before glancing out the windshield should anyone be outside and chance a glance into the van and the strange scene to be played out. The road and sidewalks were empty, save for birds and a squirrel. At ease by this notion, Lewis drifted to where Mystery was prodding beneath the driver seat. “Yes?”

Mystery stuffed his front feet up with his upper body, tensed, then backed up. With his teeth, the dog dragged out an old beaten up box that had been crushed and stuffed up under the seat. Lewis eyed it, then the dog that now sat beside it, tail wagging. Without a word Lewis worked at the crispy tape, the many layers of tape set over the boxes top, until it was open. Mystery sneezed audibly from the dust to lift off from the box as Lewis brushed it off, and opened the box.

There was nothing inside the box save for some sheets of paper print outs, a few beaten and thin paged notebooks scratched up by layers of notes and pictures. And a bag. Lewis ignored the notepads and ignored the tug they demanded from his spiritual presence, he pushed the notepads away as he brought out the bag and set it beneath him on the thin carpet of the cluttered van. He went through the pockets until he found a phone.

His phone.

Lewis settled down before the box and stared at the phone. It was by now outdated, it had been for a long time scratched up with a crack in the screen. That was from when Vivi dropped it, they were fighting over it. He rubbed his thumb over the thin crackle of lines, not feeling, but sensing their presence. Like the way he could sense people, or souls. If he wasn’t focused, the world was colors and lights and darks, sounds were vibrations and smells were tendrils working through his vaporous and languid shape. He felt more than he saw. He was no longer a physical obstruction projected into the world, he was a collision of consciousness that existed between the worlds.

He set the phone aside, and set his hands upon the bag. The grimy texture of too much use, not enough wash. The fabric once stiff and course was now soft like paper, and folded over in his pseudo physical digits. Lewis stared at the pristine polished bone of his knuckles, in contrast to the muggy bag that had been forgotten.

Or preserved.

His fingers found the snaps of the bag up under its flap. Lewis undid them and flipped the flap open, and pulled the opening up and widened it so he could see in. The soft flutter of his ethereal fire illuminated the foremost contents with a fuchsia tinge. A lighter, tarnished. A pair of pants. Some glass bottle that once held chilled coffee. Purple shoes. A shirt with a rip in the sleeve. A comb. An cold wallet. Some lost pictures he refused to look at. A purple sash.

Lewis piled the contents of the box back inside and haphazardly closed it before shoving it back under the seat, more or less. He leaned into the wall of the van and set himself to glower on a spot of the floor, clear of clutter. He wanted to make the spot go away. He wanted to take the spots place. Somehow, he wanted to become that spot. It didn’t make sense but he didn’t want to think about anything else. Focus on what and where his current state was.

Mystery studied Lewis’ display carefully. With a whine, Mystery went back to the driver seat and dragged the box out. Lewis caught his actions and moved, to try and stop Mystery and shoo the dog away. Lewis didn’t want to hurt or startle Mystery again, and Mystery knew this. Which is why the dog did not relent, and refused to give in to Lewis’ reluctant efforts. Mystery snapped the box out and plants his feet on the inner side, despite Lewis irritation and scolding. Mystery nosed around until he found the pictures and sent a few tumbling to Lewis’ knees. Lewis reached over to snatch them up, but Mystery shoved himself between the ghost’s hands and the pictures and plucked up one.

Lewis dithers as Mystery offers him the picture. It’s beautiful. A nighttime shot, the van in the background beside a large dark house, it’s a full moon and the cameras flash has gone off illuminating the entire area in yellow. Much too close to the camera is Vivi, wearing her traditional scarf and sweater as blue as the sea. Arthur in his white work shirt and amber vest has ducked behind a tall figure; his expression is shock, not expecting the picture to have been taken. For a moment Lewis is dumfounded by the figure Arthur has chosen to hide behind, tall with broad shoulders and dressed in a purple vest—

A sharp spark ignites in Lewis’ soul. That’s him! How could he forget? How does anyone forget what they look like? In his locket, it’s in his locket… oh fuck. Lewis set his hand over the heart pulsing on his chest. When was the last time he looked at that picture? How long? He didn’t remember anymore. He had forgotten so much, too much. And he made Vivi forget along with him.

He gripped the picture in his fist, before he set his hand down. Mystery whined, and growled, and whined. Lewis looked to the dog as he continued making sounds both demanding and consoling. Lewis set his hand on the dogs head, and then looked back to the picture. “I know. I know.”

__

It had taken longer than Vivi had anticipated to get audience with their supervisor. Mostly because their supervisor wasn’t in, and they had to schedule an appointment with the secretary for a time the following day. A whole waste as far as Vivi was concerned. Arthur couldn’t believe she could keep track of relevant and irrelevant information, the history to an area, and balance her check book; but constantly forgot when their supervisor’s office hours would be. Vivi had asked him to shut up, politely so there would be no ill will for the next hour or so. On their way back they had stopped to get a snack, get nourishment out of the way before checking up on Lewis and Mystery. Mystery was not forgotten, and a bag of chicken meat would be his reward for keeping Lewis company.

Some apprehension did enter Vivi more than often as they waited in the nice furnished office. But that was to be expected, and whenever she could Vivi would turn to Arthur and inquire, “We left Lewis in the van?”

To that, Arthur would go pale and gripping the metal arm set in its sling, he would nod. And Vivi then satisfied, would nod as well. “Good. Then I’m not losing my mind.”

Arthur felt like he was losing his. As Vivi had so eloquently put it before, they had abducted the ghost of their friend. And nothing about it felt right.

They were at a powerwalk pace to reach the van, chewing through the last few yards to the parking spot. Without thinking Vivi had gone to the back, intending to open up the doors and let Mystery out for a break and to have his food. Arthur barely made a noise of warning when the doors were wrenched open, and Vivi froze up in realization to what she had done. Though, no one was on the sidewalk or in the nearby area, the campus was almost deserted at the highlight of classes at that point in day.

Nonetheless, she was staring in shock at the face inside. And Lewis gawked back, as if he had been caught smashing a kid’s piggybank.

Curious to the sudden stupor Vivi had collided with, Arthur had rounded the door of the van and looked into the darken interior. “Hey. Lewis.” As those words were uttered, Arthur’s eyes slid back into their whites and he crashed over the bumper of the van before slumping onto the hard asphalt.

Vivi couldn’t bring herself to save the sudden weight now pooled at her ankles. She dropped the greasy bag of chicken, and put her hands to her hair as she looked from Arthur to Lewis. The Lewis she had yet to know, the Lewis she had seen briefly in the mansion, the Lewis snatched from her memories. The Lewis that had terrified Arthur with a wave of memories fought to be forgotten, but instead their retribution sent him into a dead faint. That Lewis.

“So,” Vivi choked. She brought her eyes back to Lewis and swallowed. “You figured out how to make yourself look alive?”

Lewis seemed to relax but his expression was odd. “I… what?”

A few yaps came from the van’s back, as Mystery darted out to the bag forgotten on the road beside Arthur. Arthur was deep out, maybe suffering a mild concussion from the blood dripping from his forehead. Mystery lapped at the blood, before turning his snout to the bag and tearing into it. 

Vivi didn’t interfere with the dog’s business; too engrossed with the befuddled Lewis huddled in the vans back. Vivi climbed inside and without a word passed the spirit, or half ghost, to rummage through the front seat. A bit conscious and still unaccustomed to the erratic comings and goings of close proximity with living beings, Lewis swayed back from Vivi as she fumbled around, before twisting back to him. She held a glistening silver surface and shoved it into Lewis’ face. “Here.”

Lewis fixed his dark… eyes on the reflection and lost himself in the pool of memories. If he thought he had lost pieces of himself before, he was to receive a dreary reminder that he had given up far more than he could previously recall. The question persisted as an echo in his thoughts. _When did I lose so much_?

But it was all here now. His combed hair style, just as he had envisioned it, maybe a little poofier. His face, but his eyes…. Lewis reached a hand up to touch his face, but stopped and looked at his hand. Still dark, still clad in polished bone.

Vivi noted his gaze, and gripped her fists on her skirt. “Yeah, it’s just your face for now,” she said, with a soft undertone of optimism. “But you didn’t realize you were doing it?” Vivi wasn’t sure if Lewis had been listening, until he shook his head. He shook his head, she noted, it did not swivel or sway. It looked odd to her, but she was so far only familiar with the levitating skull. It was endearing to see the face that had been torn from her dreams. Vivi shut her eyes. “Oh, Mystery! Don’t eat the bag!” Vivi spun away from Lewis and ducked out of the vans open back.

Lewis watched her go. Even if he wanted to remember and absorbed the face he had lost, Vivi antics would always take priority. He smirked, and almost felt it on his wispy lips.

“Arthur!” Vivi yelped. “My god, your head!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it not obvious I couldn't decide a name for this fictional university? 
> 
> I apologize that my character 'development' is tedious and drawn out.
> 
> I also apologize for the nonsensical titles I lay down. I come up with a title for a chapter with full intention to changing it, but I never do.


	3. Chapter 3

##### 

Coaled Black

The temperature had dropped considerable since the night before, and as dusk crept through the small town the icy breeze made good time across the roads and buildings. A low buzz hung on the air as lamps activated by the fading sunlight, blazed through the calm parking lot with their unsavory yellowed-orange drapes coating black tarmac. On the nearest throughway across from the motel cars zoomed by, bumpers skimming over chilled asphalt in a wild range of pitch and whistles.

Before disembarking the van Vivi took one last scan through the back, searching for any item she couldn’t live without for the evening. There was the firstaid kit, the small portable container could be stuffed with no problem into her night bag. It was her personal bag and Arthur’s, along with a provision bag of the usual spiritual wards which she never felt decent going anywhere without. The laptop went into the work bag and then she shuffled out to join Lewis and Mystery out in the chilly night. Arthur had yet to awaken, which didn’t tear concern out of Vivi for the time. Arthur probably needed the rest, and Vivi had seen him with worse head wounds before. Head wounds bled a lot, that was a fact. 

Lewis carried Arthur bridal style, as Vivi went around the van checking to verify all doors were latched proper. When she returned to the group, Vivi gestured with a hand and lead towards an inner corridor of the motels structure. It was cheap for the time, until they received a check and Vivi could plan out their next budget crunch.

“We’re upstairs,” Vivi supplied. When she struggled a bit with Arthur’s bag, Lewis managed to snag it from her shoulder and gripped the strap in a fist propped under Arthur’s backside. “Thanks.” It was Lewis’ insistence that they allot Arthur the time to sleep, and he offered to carry the light-weight on up, no problem. Though in all suggestion of nature Lewis seemed pacified, Vivi remained suspicious. The subject of conversations between Lewis and Arthur strayed far from her context, and she almost felt the venom over a discussion that involved what had happened in the Cave. She wasn’t settled to believe that Lewis could forgive and forget by mere word, not after what she had witnessed displayed in the mansion.

The demon from the cave may have augmented Lewis’ actions heavily, but Vivi couldn’t take her eyes off Arthur’s battered arm wrapped in his sling and folded over his chest.

What had swayed Vivi into allowing Arthur to remain at rest was a side agenda. Lewis could appear almost human, save for the dark emptiness that ebbed at the flames of his eyes – easily remedied with the sunglasses Arthur had offered. Aside from that, Lewis had not yet deduced how to shrug off his death suit and the glistening ribs protruding from the dark fabric in his sides. It wasn’t so noticeable with Arthur slumped in Lewis’ arms, and it was not as inconspicuous as a blanket draped over his shoulders.

They hurried up the concrete steps and found their destination, down the open walkway to the door number Vivi checked on the key she held. Vivi was partially distracted by Lewis’ near gliding movements, as he mirrored her rapid steps. It was not quite walking but enough that it would fool the oblivious eye, unless someone decided to get down and examine where his feet fell with each step he took. They arrived at the door, Vivi jiggled the key in the handle and delivered a hard shove with her shoulder to dislodge the door. The clean scent of linen and cold, somewhat distilled water hovered on the air. Otherwise, the room was in good order despite its age. Vivi snapped on the light switch, predictably beside the door frame and slipped aside as Mystery padded in, soon followed by Lewis. She watched the spirit for his reaction, struggling to decode obscure meaning through the way he carried his ‘steps,’ along with Lewis’ first impression of the rooms layout. 

With hardly a glimpse of the room Lewis crossed to the lone bed and set Arthur there, along with the bag set on the opposite corner. Lewis turned himself when Vivi shut the door, and watched as she moved to adjust the curtains to close the thin gap in the front.

“It’s not too bad,” Vivi said. “For the price.” She deposits her bags on the table stationed beside the window, then rummaged through her personal bag for the first aid kit. “Not as grand as a spooky mansion.” She looked up when Lewis gave a soft crackle, something like a laugh or grumble. Vivi felt immensely better when he had moved away from Arthur, and relocated himself to the other side of the room near the still dark bathroom half. 

It was different when they were in the van, she reflected. Vivi had kept herself between Lewis and Arthur, even inadvertently when she was asleep. There was also the barrier of the bench seat that had put her mind to ease. But without these walls, these barriers in a way, seeing Lewis and Arthur in the same space together kept drawing up the memories. The sparse few she had of the Lewis she was introduced to, looming over Arthur as her friend sputtered and cringed under his malicious gaze.

Vivi gave her head a shake. She didn’t want to think of that. She sat on the edge of the bed beside Arthur and set the first aid kit on the nightstand beside her knees. The bed jarred when Mystery sprang up and crept over to Arthur, the dog spun around as dogs do and coiled around himself right beside Arthur’s good shoulder. Sighing, Vivi reached to the dogs head and gave him a scratch before she returned to the medical kit.

If only they worked like the ones in video games.

“Why a mansion?” Vivi asked. She pulled the bandage off Arthur’s head and inspected the shallow scrape. “You never struck me as one for big, glamourous houses.” She looked up as she wiped a moist towel on the raw patch of skin, then dried the wound with a new pieces of gauze. Arthur never once twitched in his heavy slumber. His breath came in shallow wheezes, his chest narrowly moved.

Lewis wasn’t looking at Vivi. He had absorbed with the secluded interior of the bathroom, eyes gleaming soft magenta in the dark pits behind the shades. Vivi was about to ask again as Lewis turned his upper half away from her. “It didn’t start out as a mansion,” Lewis said. He took a step back from the shadows, retreated almost, but stepped forward again. “Honestly, I don’t remember.” Lewis was distracted, holding up his hands and looking from them to the dark half of the room.

Vivi sat for a moment puzzling over his behavior, before it clicked. She said nothing and was content to sit and watch as Lewis continued to spin in place, look at a spot, retreat, and then return. It was as if he was afraid of his own shadow, but that couldn’t be it. Could it? Vivi remained motionless as Lewis continued to be animate. She noted he seemed particularly focused on his hands, and the small patch on his backside stretched and ripped over his spine.

“It felt safe,” Lewis said. His movements slowed, and he turned to look at Vivi. “And, I really didn’t want to be found. For a while.” Lewis looked away, thoughtfulness expressed in his knitted brow. It didn’t come as a surprise to Vivi that Lewis craved seclusion, after all that was a trademark of spirits inherent habits. But it felt like something more, more than what Lewis could admit, had kept him hidden away with only his ire burning eternally.

Vivi slips off the bed and approached Lewis. “What do you find so appealing?” she asked, as she flipped on the light. The light pulsed, as cheap lamps usually do before they go out, and the strobe above the mirror filled the small space with sharp white light. Vivi froze when she saw the mirror and the reflections it revealed. “Wow. I didn’t expect that.” Now she could appreciate Lewis’ fascination with the mirror.

Where Lewis should be there was a shape, but it rippled and flashed and only held his reflection briefly.

“I don’t like mirrors,” Lewis muttered.

Vivi moved to stand behind him, but her reflection remained dominant and solid. “Is it because it’s all choppy?” she asked, and leaned out from around his side. “I think you can make this work.”

Lewis was quiet for a moment. Feebly, he raised his hands and moved them, out from him and back, then closed his hands into fists. “You don’t see what I see,” he said.

This made Vivi curious, but she decided to let the vague utterance flutter away. All that she could make out were the brief snaps of the image as it cleared, when Lewis focused. He moved back from the mirror, and his reflection held just as solid as Vivi’s reflection did. It was almost too perfect.

“Okay,” Lewis said, as he turned to Vivi. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but whatever. It works.”

“We’ll just keep an eye out,” Vivi said. “People don’t really like to look into mirrors anyway when they’re out in public. Did you ever notice that?”

“Yeah.” Lewis nodded. “Geez, it’s just a lot to take in.” He gave himself another twist, checking how his ‘reflection’ moved in the mirror. Vivi felt that if she gaped between the twin Lewis’ long enough, the one in the mirror would do something weird or out of sync. This was something that bugged her about movies when a mirror was involved, she always expected something weird from the reflection in movie.

As Vivi returned to Arthur’s side, she waved a hand over her shoulder toward Lewis. “Humans are masters of coping,” she chimed.

“I’m not human,” Lewis said. He moved to set himself beside the beds corner and stared at Arthur. Vivi pulled out a fresh square of gauze from its wrapper and fixed it over the scrape on Arthur’s head. She winced, feeling the hard knot that formed under the broken skin. She really hoped Arthur didn’t suffer a serious concussion, though she knew he fainted before he dropped.

“You’re not subhuman, either,” Vivi said. Talking. It helped distract her from Arthur’s state, but she couldn’t shake that cold creeping sensation in her shoulders as Lewis observed her cataleptic friend at his most vulnerable. “Far as I can recall,” Vivi began, “I don’t usually see Arthur sleep this deep. Of course, he’s been crippled by hefty exhaustion and suffered a mild concussion.” She wanted to brush some of the darker hairs out of Arthur’s eyes, but she couldn’t read Lewis’ brooding silence.

“What happened to us?” Vivi asked. She caught Lewis’ eyes, when he raised his head to meet her gaze. “I mean, why did we let this happen?”

Lewis evaded her stare and let his sight fall on the floor, pondering the stiff carpet with the colors bent in muggy textures in the sunglasses. He could only think of pain and fear, then nothing. The fracture. The fulcrum. Lewis reached a hand to his chest and set it on the softly thudding locket, tracing the fine cracks in its curves and surface. “You,” he began, “should get some rest.” Lewis turned, nearly gliding to the door. Vivi sprang up and dashed to him snatching at his solid shoulder.

“No you don’t!” she snapped. “Where are you going?” Vivi staggered back as Lewis whirled to her, and set his feet on the floor beneath them.

“I’m just going to stay in the van, for the night,” Lewis said. He held his hand up, as if Vivi would lunge on him and pummel him down with her fists. “That’s all. No wandering, no nothing.’”

“Lewis, you’re welcome to stay here,” Vivi insisted. “You’re not trying to tell me something you don’t think I wouldn’t understand? Are you? You can’t just tiptoe around some intricate, personal history and expect someone with amnesia to just spontaneously understand. It will never work.” She stopped when Lewis snatched her wrists from midair and pushed her hands down.

“It’s not that,” he assured. “I couldn’t want anything more, as long as….” He trailed off as his attention, his focus, went elsewhere. And briefly, Vivi caught the outline of the skull behind the skin. “It’s me,” Lewis said, after mild turmoil and hitches in his voice. He set his bright eyes on Vivi and smirked crookedly. “I’m not used to being around… places.”

Vivi curled her fingers around the cool palms of Lewis’ hands. “Oh,” she said. “Wait, I don’t understand.”

“This is a lot for me to take in,” Lewis explained. “Really, it’s like my first day back? Away from quiet woods, my deadbeats – this is the longest I’ve spent in a town. I need a chance to catch up.” There was a faint whistle in his tone, his voice breaking. “If you need me, I’ll be in the van. Nowhere else. I just need some time alone.”

There could be more that Lewis struggled with but he refused to say – he needed time to think, he was accustomed to isolation, he felt like he was intruding. For the most part Vivi could sympathize with his reluctance, and most important Vivi recognized she couldn’t force Lewis into anything if it compromised his comfort zone. “Fine,” she said, with a nod. “You need anything, you know where to find us. I wish you would stay. We could talk.”

“You need to rest.” Lewis leaned over and pressed a small kiss to Vivi’s forehead. She shuddered, but the sensation was invigorating. Lewis smiled more as he released her hands, and turned to the door. Lewis stepped out into the night, and Vivi added another note to her abundance of observations.

Lewis opened the door to leave.

__

The air was frigid and silent. Unparalleled twilight dodged about overhead, but the gnarled and twisted branches of the canopy shielded the forest floor. Every inch of the grounds remained in perpetual night, teased by the light of a sun shimmering through refracted waters. Sometimes he glimpsed the odd ray of sun clambering through the dark above, only to be snuffed out by the icy black that tangled into any and all things living and free.

For hours, and then days, and then years he ran through the thicket. Rocks and gravel crunch underfoot, twigs shriek and snap over his pant legs as he tears through the woods in unrestrained panic. Aside from the calamity that raises and drapes over the bubble of space he occupies, there are no other sounds. No birds, no crickets, no wind – the air is absolutely devoid of living presence, save for his strangled breaths.

“Guys!” he yelps. “Hey! Where are you?” His voice is raw, full of copper and acid. He keeps running, throwing his arms against the branches that snatch at his face and shoulders. Icy claws rake at his forehead and neck when they breach his defenses, he struggles not to scream through the shivers digging at his spine. “Answer! Are you there? I need a response! I’m LOST!” He stops shouting to take in heavy pants that weigh in his lungs like chunks of lead; the obstruction in his lungs melts and runs down his legs to settle in his calves. 

He wants to pause where he is and catch his breath, but he can’t. There is something beyond his peripheral, something lingering and wandering through the undergrowth seeking but not hunting. That’s its only purpose in the forest, to amble aimlessly until the inevitable. It searches for him, but he doesn’t know how he knows this or why. He just knows. It’s there and whether it wants to or not, if not driven by carnal desire, it will find him. If he stops running.

They’re not there. He knows this with no doubt, without craving the forbidden truth. He doesn’t want to accept the deep fear latching at his shoulders, just as the icy branches snag at his psyche. His friends are nowhere in this horrible place of congealed doubts.

He was alone.

“Where are you?” he screams. His voice does not echo. It’s stale and flat, trapped in his miniscule vicinity. “C’mon! I need a sign—” His foot gets snagged on a string of roots and he pitches over. He tries to raise his arms to break his fall, but he tumbles hard to his left side and onto his ribs. He groans, the wind twisted somewhere in him, and lays in the dark cold tangles of the gripping foliage and waits for the thing lumbering through the woods to find him. He doesn’t care, and he doesn’t want to think what it does with those that cross its path – when pain and madness are not enough to rip the soul asunder, the task is left to it. What frightens him most is its detachment for its victims; a tedious chore to deal with the worthless, the nameless fools that have lost themselves in its domain.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, body wracked with sobs. “I can’t. I just can’t….” He twists his arm, and finds it locked somewhere in his neck. That’s his good arm, he can tell by the feel of the cold cloth wrapped over his elbow.

Arthur takes a sharp breath and feels the phantom pain in his side, where he fell. He breathes in the odd cleanliness, the dull odor of ozone from the ‘refrigerated’ air of the cooling unit. It’s cold despite the lingering ash scent from the warming bulbs when the heater was on, not long enough to dispatch the harsh chill on his skin. It probably would benefit him if he was under the sheets and not laid out on top, with good arm tangled in his only barrier from the cold, his orange vest and the sling still tied around his neck. It’s so dark but for the pastel glow over in the corner of the room. A dark shape stands there with twin flames gleaming in deep black pools. It only takes Arthur a second to register the familiar shape glaring at him from across the room, an aura of intimidation and threat wafts off its shoulders as it loiters idly until Arthur has roused fully. The space around it seems to darken and thicken like oil, the temperature plunged sharply until he can see his breath mist in the gloom between his lips.

With a yelp Arthur jars, flopping about like a broken bird until he gets his good arm under him and pushes himself up. He was on his side, same as how he had fallen in the dream. Oh… the dream. Which dream? He turns to the corner of the far room and sees nothing there. Through the thick curtains shut over the window beside the table, the timid haze of light swells beyond the windows as if asking permission to enter, but it’s always deterred. Arthur stares at the curtains for several minutes, as his mind ravels its way back into his present state. He scarcely remembers what had frightened him so badly, aside from the frigid sensation of loneliness. Of being forgotten and left behind. It was such a crime.

When he was left in the hospital. That’s when it came about. Arthur’s head throbbed and he leaned to his side, managing to get his prosthetic to hold his weight for a bit as he touched his head. Ah. He remembers hospitals. Forgotten there, in a sense. Forgotten. He spun the recollection over and over in his mediations, laying on the uncomfortable hospital mattress and trying to understand. Trauma was what he decided on, so he never pushed her. For a long time he was worried that she would give up on him, too. He never asked her what had happened, for a long time he didn’t know what had happened himself. It took time to haul the brutalized chunks of his memories back into order, and even longer to accept what he began to comprehend. The facts he could not change, and would follow him to the end of time forevermore. Those days of waiting for his body to catch up were the longest. Damaged, traumatized, ruined. Arthur was afraid of being left behind.

And in a way he was, after all.

The false arm, unable to hold his weight, gently folds beneath his side. Soon, Arthur is lying on his stomach and staring at the curtains with the slow progress of the white light breaking through dense fibers. He could almost count the threads between each poke of sunbeam. He shivered at the chilled air and twisted his good arm up into the edge of his warm vest.

A subtle shift came at Arthur’s side and a pair of arms wraps tightly around his waist, but he didn’t move. He let his mind slink away, as Arthur’s glassy stare tracks the steady rate of the sun’s progress through the sky that still hung somewhere out there.

__

When Vivi did awaken hours later, she opted to let Arthur have the shower first. Arthur made sure to ask where Lewis was, after he recalled that their friend should be around. The lack of the spirit had confused and upset Arthur a great deal. Mostly, Arthur didn’t appreciate being left heedless of where Lewis had spirited away to, or where the ghost might appear unexpected.

“In the van,” Vivi said, as she dozed for a bit longer with Mystery trapped in her arms and tolerating it. Mystery flopped over and fitted his head over Vivi’s neck and shut his eyes.

The bathroom light didn’t work. Annoyed, Arthur had to locate his bag on the counter beside the clunky TV and rummage through it for his flashlight. He eyed the folded clothing there beside his travel sack, but forgoes inquiring Vivi about it then.

Not until they had all taken their turns freshening up, and getting packed. It never took long, and they had a full quarter of an hour before clock out when they needed to turn the keys in.

“Did you do the laundry last night?” Arthur did ask. He leaned far to his side and slung his bag over his good shoulder, his dastardly metal arm poking out of the side of his pack. He had to remove it when he showered due to the damage, and thus opted not to reattach it since it was beginning to ache in his shoulder.

Vivi took one last look inside the room, though they had scoured every inch already for any loose articles. She shut the door and made certain the door was secure before turning to Arthur and shaking her head. “I kind of forgot,” she says. “I went online to check out some new posts, and got sleepy.” Then, she perks up. “You had fresh clothing too?”

“Uh… yeah.” Arthur felt his face heating up. As a rule, Arthur didn’t like anyone messing with his clothing without his permission. Sure, he didn’t care if someone wanted to do laundry, but he liked to know about it prior to the fiasco so he could brace for the inexorable inconvenience of missing left socks. “But so….” Did he dream, of a shape? He couldn’t remember.

“He lied to me,” Vivi snapped. She took Arthur’s good shoulder as he began to daze, and began marching after Mystery who had already taken the lead. “He said he wasn’t going anywhere last night.”

Arthur wasn’t sure what that was all about. He just followed Vivi, aware of how delicate their insecurities had become. It was natural, completely so. You thought you lost someone that meant the world to you, it was hard to let them out of your sight after that. Impossible in some aspects. And by all rational, Lewis had not been lost in the physical sense. He was gone. The exact opposite of available, or ever ‘being’ again. However it could be phrased.

It felt similar to the incident when Arthur had lost his hamster, Galahad. For a good while Arthur had been accustomed to let his disabled companion wander around, content that the little dude couldn’t get into too much trouble. That was before Arthur had made the little wheels that allowed the crippled hamster to explore the world, to infinite and beyond, and that sort.

It was hardly an hour later when he realized he couldn’t find Galahad anywhere. And when he did find Galahad (torn into a bag of bread and munching happily – how he found his way upon a countertop forever remained an unsolved mystery for Arthur), Arthur was more careful and a tad more paranoid about letting the hamster roam too far. Or, whenever Arthur could manage. There was no sane way of stopping Galahad from charging off into the sunset if his little hamster heart so desired. Arthur could run himself ragged worrying about Galahad getting hurt, lost, squished in Arthur’s absence, but Arthur tried not to worry. He had to have faith his uncle would be able to manage the shop and Galahad, while also permitting his little buddy the freedoms he had been denied as a hamlet. That’s what love did to people. Made them stupid, reckless, and made them let go.

No, it wasn’t anything feasibly close to that scenario. Sane enough, not conventional. But Arthur preferred to think of it as close enough. He wanted to accept that. There was a certain reluctant freedom with it. There wasn’t a legal book to go over the process of welcoming back a once dead friend. At the time it might’ve been feasible to raise Lewis with a summon, but the only one that could’ve managed that was Vivi, and it doesn’t work so well with the emotional discrepancies regarding the intricate procedure Arthur was only mildly on the edge of. Arthur’s profession was mechanics, with a side order of the occult.

Bottom line. This doesn’t happen. It was weird, awkward, and scary, and Arthur was completely lost and it wasn’t getting any better. For him it wasn’t, but that could be due to the fact he didn’t get any coffee or breakfast before they were on their way.

A twinge of regret did ripple through Arthur that he wasn’t driving now. He settled down in his blanket more and felt that sweet spot where it was warmest. Mystery squirmed around beside his thigh, poking his head out from under the edge of the blanket to get some fresh air. Arthur let out a slow breath and saw it mist in front of his face. That was REALLY disturbing. His eyes slipped over, catching Vivi as she glanced up into the rear view mirror, checking the interior of the vans back. The cold didn’t seem to bother her, but she did put a heavier coat on over her usual sweater before she took her place in the driver seat. Also, she just seemed to take to the colder climates better.

They had returned to the university at the required time, set up by the secretary of their supervisor. The interaction was interesting, and Arthur wanted to sympathize with the older man that was then contending with Vivi’s unease and impatience. Some images of a specter peering out a window and some voice recordings seemed remedial, but their supervisor took them regardless and handed over a check. As with the check came the next assignment, and a deadline. Plenty of time, Vivi always said.

Plenty of time to get lost, do some side jobs, and get back with the university. As long as they had money for food, necessities, and batteries. Batteries were like gold to them. Arthur should consider making the dampening when they reached his place.

“Do you really think he’s okay?” Vivi asked. She had her eyes on Arthur, apprehensive and needing a second opinion to fortify her conclusions. She swayed between ecstatic and disquiet, and Arthur didn’t blame her.

Arthur nodded. It felt too good to be sitting in the direct sunlight, but almost unbearable at other times. Whenever the van shifted and he was out of the bright rays, the cold gnawed deep into his skin as if the source was his own soul.

“I’m no expert,” Arthur began, “But I think he’s fine.” He shifted, as Mystery snuggled down and the cold tips of the dogs paws poked into his leg. To put some ease back into Vivi, Arthur twisted enough to look back into the dark interior behind the seats. With his head raised up over the seat Arthur could pick out the steady thrum, and felt himself transported back to the mansion - deposited in the cold crypt, the dark walls closing in, and the delicate accents of candlelight, never enough to render his surroundings clearly with the soft pinks. He shuddered.

It would be interesting if they were pulled over for a bogus traffic infraction; because Vivi was the best driver and they were hardly ever pulled over. The license plate was the usual culprit. 

The highway patrol man would get up to the window and would become instantly curious about the big black box half hidden by a blanket, in the vans back.

Arthur ran over the scenario in his mind, despite his own anxiety about the situation he was not the most confident for encountering. The officer would order them out of the van, and demand they open the back doors. Then, himself or Vivi would have the delight of trying to explain how, “Yes, it looks like a coffin. But it isn’t really.” 

“If it’s not a coffin,” highway patrol man would say, “then what is it?” The matter wouldn’t be illegal, but he would need some explanation.

Vivi would say, “It’s just a decorative box.” Because Vivi is usually professional when she needs to be, and logical only when necessary, and she would not want the officer poking around the box because that would be invasive and rude, and that would be the last thing she wanted from this encounter; though inevitable, given probable circumstance.

And Arthur, being honest and trying to be helpful, would flat out say, “An incubator?”

Since the scenario would go downhill from there, high way man calling out his buddies to this little slice of The Twilight Zone to figure out the mystery of the fucking big black box, with no seams or openings. What was inside as much a mystery to Arthur and Vivi, and whether it could be vandalized or not a question they did not need answered.

When they had first discovered it secluded in the vans back, Vivi didn’t know what first to make of it. But Arthur had some notion of what it meant. He had seen the thing in the mansion and Lewis had emerged from it. The sun was out warming the metal exterior of the van causing waves to roll into the chilly air as Arthur and Vivi stood there, but within the van the air was icy. Drained. From prior experience Arthur half expected the battery of the van to be dead, but the engine started without hitch. The air was just really cold, even in the front seat where the sunlight blazed through the windshield void of restraint. So bizarre.

Arthur had pondered aloud the nature of the box, while Vivi closed in on it for examination. She did nothing too drastic but felt along the sides seeking an opening, only curious, not wanting to intrude. When no obvious opening or hinge could be located, she gave the surface a firm pat and felt the interior echo. She set her ear atop the surface, and to Arthur and Mystery awaiting her deduction, Vivi announced she could make out a subtle ‘beating.’

The sound of it wasn’t obnoxious, but it was unnerving to Arthur. They turned up the radio and tried not to get pulled over for some bogus traffic violation, because they got pinned by those far more than the actual violations. Vivi was a good driver when she wanted to be.

“I wish he could have warned us. That would have been nice,” Vivi says. “I’m more worried that he didn’t.” She bit her lip as she kept her eyes on the road, trying not to glance up at the mirror and the little boo charm. “Or maybe he didn’t know?”

Arthur leaned forward and fiddled with the heater vents. They worked too well only in specific areas. “I doubt there’s a handbook for the ‘Recently Deceased,’” Arthur said. He smirked when Vivi giggled.

“Right. Okay,” she hummed. “I can deal with a clueless Lewis.”

Arthur chuckled and rubbed at Mystery’s neck. “Oh yeah. Mods are asleep. Time to post pictures of Alpacas.” He snorted a laugh, and nearly squawked when Vivi gave him a nebulous stare. Shit, that’s right—

“What about Alpacas? Why not ponies?” she asked, a mischievous glare in her eye. Arthur could see her mind working through those magenta glasses. Vivi was a sharp cookie, and that was one of the many perks of her that he loved so much.

“Well,” Arthur’s smile widened. It hurt, but the warmth tugging at his heart was more appealing than the regret. “Lewis likes Alpacas.” He barely finished when Vivi gave a very girlish squeal. Arthur kind of wanted to squeal with her, but that wouldn’t be very manly. Currently, Arthur was tangled up in a very blue blanket, with the heater going full blast. He did not feel very masculine, and wasn’t wool picking for man points any time soon.

“Really? Really!” The way Vivi was giggling, you could hardly envision the ominous black box resting in the vans back. “You’re lying.” 

Arthur shook his head. “Nope.” He could roll with it, if it meant killing off the oppressive rain cloud strapped to the van. 

Vivi was still giggling, and trying to drive while wiping the tears out of her eyes. “Okay,” she sniggered, “What else? You’re not going to tell me he likes Sailor Moon.” 

Arthur felt the color drain from his face. “ _Is she being serious?_ ” 

Vivi threw her head back. Forget the black box thudding in the vans back, this was far more horrifying. “No! No!” she crowed. It was pretty fantastic if Arthur was to judge maniacal laughter. “You are not going to sit there and tell me that scary ghost likes Sailor Moon. No! I refuse to believe it.”

“You liked Sailor Moon,” Arthur murmured.

“Everyone liked Sailor Moon and DBZ when they first came out,” Vivi said. “How about something else? A hobby? What’d he do when I wasn’t bossing him around?”

“Hold on,” Arthur said, and he gave it some careful thought. But was this really okay? Maybe he should wait and let Lewis talk to her. That is, if he ever decided to come out of the coffin. “He can play,” Arthur says. String instruments were a passion for Lewis, especially the violin. Arthur remembered late all-nighters stuck on some back road, and Lewis would play to ease the sour mood. Lewis’ answer to a lot of their problems, kill it with music. Vivi and Mystery would sit in the back, and Lewis would play for them. While Arthur isolated himself in the front of the van with the laptop, working to debug Vivi’s crapped out phone. Eventually, Arthur would have to shut the laptop down, and put it and the phone away on the floorboard before his eyes slipped shut.

“No mercy,” Arthur used to tell Lewis.

“Or, he knows how to violin with skills,” Arthur continued, as the memory slipped away. “If he had wanted, he could have probably gone professional. But he wanted to help out at—” Arthur stopped himself there. No, he couldn’t go on with this. He snuggled down in the warm blanket between Mystery and the passenger side door, trying not to read too much in Vivi’s fretful gaze.

“Help out?” she asked. “With us?”

Arthur thumbed at his empty sleeve under the blanket. Mystery was licking at his fingers, and he moved his hand to stroke the dog. Arthur really dug himself a ditch, and he still had the shovel. “That too,” he says, and turns to Vivi trying to hide his discomfort and project a pleading he couldn’t voice with his lips. “Can you change the radio?”

Vivi gave Arthur a pointed look, but reached over anyway to fiddle with the knobs. It was an unspoken rule that when in the van, with no capacity to escape in the close quarters, the request to change the radio was equal to, ‘I’m not cool with this.’ And Vivi wouldn’t push Arthur on it.

The van chugged along the highway, from the overgrown woods and into the rising structures of the town. Vivi slowed and eased in to mingle among the long trail of arriving traffic, all on the same road headed one way in among the growing number of shops and outskirt neighborhoods. At the back of the van, hidden by a watery splash of shadow and a yellow blanket, the black box bides through time. A steady pulse comes from the core, keeping pace with those that had risen to greet the day. It keeps below the octave of the radio while soft rock slips through the steady rattle of the engine, as the occupants of the van move forward into the dawn of yesterday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats! Your Lewis evolved into Cofagrigus!
> 
> No, really. He was a Yamask, and then he evolved. No more looking at your face and weeping. The rest of us have moved on.


	4. Chapter 4

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Two agonizing days.

Vivi didn’t mind, but waiting made her anxious when she knew they had hours of driving ahead and a destination at the end of a long road. It couldn’t be helped that Arthur had to take the time out to repair the damage to his arm – or take the time to work many long hours, and then finally decide the arm on its own was worthless, and the surviving parts were better off cannibalized for a newish prosthetic. Arthur rarely worked from scratch on his replacements, as he took what he got in regards to putting something functional together. Vivi didn’t bother him a whole lot during the process, opting to knit away the time with other priorities such as making the necessary preparations for the long drive between here and eventual.

Each time Vivi stopped by to deliver some food and remind Arthur eating was essential, she saw the progress of his new arm. At first it was one model and it hardly looked anything near to human anatomy, it resembled more of an insect limb with colorful wires and rods still steaming with solder. Then there came to be two, and one was taking the shape of an arm through the section plates Arthur was attaching over the wires and motor parts.

“It’s looking good,” Vivi said, as they shared a lunch. They sat at a cluttered beat up coffee table, two couches facing each other on either side of it. It was in the break room of the car garage of Kingsmen Mechanics, owned by Arthur’s uncle and employer. One wall was fixed up for a quick meal preparation zone, complete with particle cabinets and a counter top with a sink set. Beside the short counter was a small fridge, and atop the fridge was a microwave. The walls were soundproofed, but still the distant howl of work and hydraulic squeal crept in. “Are you trying some of the new connectors, to get more sensation?”

Arthur glanced up from the fries he was picking at. He raised one to his head where Galahad sat, tangled in his unruly hair. “Naw,” he said. Galahad tilted on his wheels as he took the fry and began munching, no mind to the fact the hamster was getting ketchup in Arthur’s hair. Arthur then returned his lone arm to the large, triple meat burger Vivi had brought. “This time I’m focused on strengthening the elbow, but going for more range of movement.” He took a bite and worked on that for a moment, barely swallowing before he went on. “I’m not sure how much tension to allot the joint, to keep it from cracking.”

Vivi wiped Mystery’s mouth off, before allowing the dog to return to his burger. Vivi poked through the magazines left on the coffee table amongst plastic bags and Styrofoam containers. Most the magazines were the norm – mechanics digest, some body builders. She found one for medical, and the issue for prosthetics with the edges of the pages worn to tatters. She noted the date on the front page before looking up to meet Arthur’s eyes as he watched her.

Since the conversation was diverted in the van, they had tiptoed around matters concerning Lewis. Arthur hadn’t asked about him in all the times Vivi came by, and Vivi wasn’t sure what to make of that. If Arthur knew simply by her appearance, or where the nature of the conversation would delve if Uncle Lance stumbled in on them while they discussed their ‘late’ friend. Thinking back on all the times she could recall, Vivi never once had heard Lance mention Lewis. But who would bring up a topic of a loss on the spot? But there are a many that would avoid or refuse to acknowledge such issues, forget and move on was sometimes easiest.

“Take your time,” Vivi said. She began offering Mystery her fries one at a time, and Mystery snapped them up in turn. “I’m still doing some research before I make a route.”

Arthur nodded. “Uh, Lance also has a few jobs for me,” he said. “So it’s taken longer than I estimated in the first place. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” Vivi huffed. “I’m not jeopardizing your only stable job.”

Arthur blinked. He pinned his burger down with his knuckles and deftly tore off a piece of meat, which he offered to Galahad. “I don’t think he’d fire me, unless I blew up the shop….” His voice trailed off, and Arthur managed a grim sneer. “Again.”

Vivi gave a dry laugh. No, that wasn’t funny.

Professionally, Arthur could duck out of his main income by taking service up with Vivi’s Mystery Skulls, as the onboard mechanic. By ‘contract’ Arthur received a percentage of pay for their assignments, plus a little extra whenever the van crapped out. A simple handshake would have sufficed for Arthur, but Vivi insisted they make it official. The contract consisted of a napkin shoved into the glove compartment, and maybe to this day it is still there.

Through the glassed side of the break room, Vivi spied Uncle Lance sneaking out. She decided he was sneaking, or up to something. Vivi stood and collected her trash, and told Arthur to finish all of his food before he returned to work. Arthur was prone to forgetting halfway through a meal when an idea struck him, and leave his food to grow cold and moldy while he worked away. If Vivi gave a stern reminder, he was more than likely to consume nearly all his food before he took off.

“And don’t make Galahad finish it for you,” where Vivi’s last words. She excused herself and Mystery, ignoring Arthur’s exasperated expression, and Galahad’s dismay. Vivi dumped her trash in the garbage bin beside the door and stepped out through the garages main work zone.

Since they had returned to Kingsmen Mechanics, Uncle Lance had been pushing to do some maintenance work on the van before they took off again. Each time Vivi denied with the excuse that she had work to do, and, Arthur could probably fit in a quick check up when he had the chance. That was ill planned, and Lance had called her on it. Still, she kept on that she did have errands to run and wanted to get that out of the way before the van was looked over, in case she forgot something.

Such as locking the doors.

Vivi saw Lance duck out of the driver’s side, and move to the front of the van to pop the hood. Mystery took off before her, and she called for Lance as she raced over. “Hey! What are you doing?” Vivi tried to hide the note of alarm in her voice.

Lance wore his dark coat, come rain or summer, and the tool belt around his waist worn that was stained from years of use. He didn’t pay Vivi much mind as he leaned over the engine and scanned over the tubes and wires at his fingers. “Just a quick look,” he said. “Put my mind to ease, huh?”

“I told you to wait!” Vivi snapped. She wasn’t tall, but she straightened herself up as much as she could and crossed her arms. Mystery barked beside her in his, have you no respect, tone.

“I’m not confining you to the shop,” Lance assured. He chewed on the toothpick between his teeth as he turned his eyes back to the engine. “Hmm, need an oil change, some sparkplugs could do with replacing. Lemme get a new belt, this one’s looking shabby.” He leaned over, nearly into the carriage as he tapped around. “It’s about time we rotated those tires, isn’t it? You drive to the moon and back every day.”

“You didn’t mess with anything in the van?” Vivi asked. She followed Mystery when he hoped up through the open driver side door. The white dog flashed out of sight when he leapt up into the back.

“Naw,” Lance said. “That’s yer kids department. It’s your office, and I have no business going back there.”

The front of the van was warm and stuffy from sitting in the noontime sun. Vivi peered over the seat into the back interior and saw that the black box was gone. Frail wisps of the frigid air hung in the shadows, and Vivi wanted to reach out and catch it but there was no way of grasping what cannot be seen. Like chasing radical dreams. She leaned over the back seat to watch Mystery go around the perimeter of the walls, head down and ears twisting but it was apparent he was finding nothing. Mystery stopped when he reached the space where the box had sat, and turned to look at her.

“Uncle Lance,” Vivi began. She rested her head on the warm seat for a moment, before slipping back out of the driver’s side. “Did you know Lewis well?” There was a span of silence, before the hood of the van cracked as it slammed down. Vivi whipped to where Lance stood, his hands still gripping the top of the hood and staring at her hard. “Hmm?”

Lance uncoiled, slipping from his stance and dragged his gloved hands from the vans front. “I knew him,” he said. “But not like you and Art did. It was tragic, what happen to him. What’s Art been telling you?”

Vivi couldn’t discern if Lance was aware of her amnesia, or if he was trying to dodge the subject. “We’ve just been talking,” she said. Mystery appeared from over the driver seat, skidding down to sit beside Vivi. “Kind of going back.” She stared up at Lance as he moved along the side van until he stood before her. She didn’t flinch, even when he quickly clasped a hand to her shoulder.

“Don’t totter over that piece of history too much, love.” When Lance spoke, there was a tone of pain in his voice that was as audible, as if he was ready to cry. Vivi couldn’t remember ever seeing Uncle Lance, a sturdy figure in their life, breaking down and crying. But she felt it. And she felt the knot of confusion and agony, as if she had missed something important and it angered her how lost she was to the company of the subject. She wanted to know, but they avoided it. They kept her away. “It is a pain no one should burden,” he ended. Lance took his arm from Vivi’s shoulder, and walked away. 

The paradox of Lance setting an oil stained hand upon any person or object never ceased to boggle Vivi’s mind. Nor the factor that whenever he removed the hand, no stain or evidence remained that he had ever been present. Vivi watched through the passenger side, as Lance staggered across the parking lot back to the side doors that entered into the garage shops main work zone.

“Hey.”

Vivi jolted in place to the hollow voice that echoed out of nowhere, and to the shape now leaning over the front seat just above Mystery’s head. She grabbed her chest as her heart lurched in her ribs. “Shit,” Vivi hissed. “Don’t do that!” She swiped out her hand, trying to connect with the skull but Lewis merely let his head rise out of range and her hand passed through where his neck would have been.

“Sorry.” There was smugness in his voice. “You okay?” All smugness dried up when Vivi climbed up onto the driver’s seat and wrapped her arms around Lewis’ shoulders. Mystery gave a yelp and ducked over into the passenger seat. “Vi, wait!” Lewis lunged forward as Vivi tumbled backwards, arms looped around the stunned skull. Vivi groaned when she fell back onto the warm asphalt behind her, the skull still clutched to her chest. Lewis’ decapitated body hung out of the driver seat, arms draped over the footstep of the van. “Tried to warn you,” his voice muttered, from somewhere. He gestured to Vivi on the ground.

“I should have known better,” Vivi retorted. She forced herself to sit up and looked down at the skull in her arms. Bright eye sockets gazed back up at her, and everything about the visage from the poof of magenta hair to the teeth seemed much more solid. “Incubator.”

“Come again?” The voice seemed to come from the skull, but at the same time it came from the suit, and just as well it came from nowhere exactly. It seemed to reverberate in Vivi’s mind, warm and pleasant.

“Incubator,” Vivi repeated, as if that would clarify. “Arthur called you an incubator.”

“That’s all good and well,” Lewis said. The skull narrowed its brow and the eyes brightened in the hollow sockets. “Care to explain? Mystery! Get off me! C’mon now.”

The body jerked its shoulders, forcing the Mystery dog perched on the torsos backside to bounce off with a yap.

Vivi climbed to her feet and somehow managed to scoot Lewis’ body over in the vans seat without the use of her arms, and shut the door after her. She explained the coffin that had taken temporary residence in the back of the van, and the collective unease it had given she and Arthur. Not because the coffin disturbed them, not at all, but they were worried for his wellbeing. The nearest they had concluded of the coffin’s significance was sleeping but… why a coffin? And was it actual sleeping, in whatever sense it took?

They sat in silence for the next few minutes. Vivi still held the skull tightly in her arms, and the body sat next to her with Mystery slumped over his lap.

“This is the first time in a long time that I could wrap my arms around you,” Vivi said. “Not since we were kids.” The skull said nothing, just stared over at Vivi’s shoulder as if in deep concentration. Vivi gave him a few more minutes, before asking if he wanted his head back?

“I’m good,” Lewis hummed. “I was just— You saw the coffin?” The flames in his eye sockets perked up to her face, as if he’d never heard of a coffin before.

“Yeah,” Vivi said. “I’m not going to ask this time.”

“Thanks.” Then Lewis was back to inner debate. Viv noted the hand of his body was rubbing absentmindedly at one of Mystery’s ears, and Mystery didn’t perk or seem to care. In fact, Mystery’s eyes slowly closed, evidently content. “I didn’t mean for you to see the coffin,” Lewis said. “I knew you probably wouldn’t get around to doing the laundry, you were really tired. But I didn’t mean to, hmm….” His voice trailed off.

“You were scared?” Vivi said, in an accusing note.

“No,” Lewis hissed. He refused to look at her.

“Lonely?” Vivi chimed. She hugged the skull more to her chest and rested her head atop the soft poof of – what she had decided were flames at some point – but it was soft and not like fire, and didn’t have the texture of hair.

“Maybe,” Lewis said. “No. It’s different, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Vivi reasoned. “But I don’t readily understand either. Hmm.”

“Hmm,” Lewis hummed along.

Vivi watched the brick wall of the Kingsmen Mechanic’s building in front of them. She heard the once every – other minute car coast by on the road that sat before the garage shop. It was a little before five o’clock rush hour she estimated, a few more minutes and customers would start to arrive in flocks to pick up vehicles, their days work concluded. “You miss your mansion?” Vivi asked. The pause that followed was not encouraging.

“Yeah,” Lewis says. “But not because I raised the place. It was all I had.” He became quiet, and Vivi pressed no more questions. “Did you see what happen to my deadbeats?”

“Deadbeats?” Vivi said, looking down to the skulls blazing eye sockets. “The spirits that chased us?” Lewis made a sound that sputtered, and seemed to reverberate in the silent radio of the van. She took the pitch as a confirmation. “Faded. Crossed over. I’m not sure. I’m no master of reading ambiguous visage of spirits, but they seemed fine with it.” Lewis was silent for another span of time.

Outside the windshield, the sun began to fade behind the surrounding buildings as dusk approached and the air began to chill. Vivi watched the shadows grow longer and sweep over the front of the van, until a soft tinge of pink brushed over her sweater and the window glass beside her shoulder. It was then that Vivi realized Lewis hadn’t been staring at her shoulder, he was keeping a lookout should someone approach outside the window. Or maybe he was just staring off into the distance.

“To be fair,” Lewis began, “I didn’t tell then to chase you or Mystery.” Mystery opened an eye a crack at the mention of his name. “I told them to chase Arthur. You just happen to be in the wrong place, wrong time.”

Vivi glared down at the gleaming eyes inside the skull. “That was cruel,” she scolded. Lewis made a gruff sound that echoed in the cold radio, and may have said something Vivi’s sharp ears, attuned to the paranormal, was able to catch. Lewis eyes flashed over to the window and the vibrant fire inside the eye sockets dimmed.

“Cars, cars,” Lewis chattered. “People! I need my head.”

Vivi sighed. “Of course.” And tossed his skull into the back of the van.

Lewis’ body sputtered and jerked up, upsetting the dog snoozing over his lap. “Vi! What— Why?” The torso scooted over in evident panic, as Vivi opened the driver side door and slipped out.

“I’m still mad at you!” she snapped, before slamming the door shut on Lewis.

“What? What!” Lewis screamed, reaching for the door, before remembering he was in no state to go anywhere. A car pulled up in the parking space one over from the van, and Lewis flung his body over the bench seat into the vans darkened back. “This is unfair!”

Mystery popped his head over the backseat, a bit dazed from the commotion but recovering. He assessed the cause of alarm and hopped over the bench seat and joined Lewis fumbling in the back.

“She acts like I was the one that MURDERED!” Lewis shrieked. The sound was hellish and caused the van to ignite with momentary life, lamp lights pulsing and blazing yellow on the brick wall before them, engine roaring, windshield wipers sweeping and stopping in half motion. 

Mystery moved over and sat down beside Lewis’ torso. The dog slanted his brows over the amber glasses he wore, and flattened his ears. This was all not necessary, but he supposed Lewis couldn’t help it.

Lewis’ body turned to the dog, hunched over in the back of the van and barely able to keep from sinking through the floor. Even without his head Lewis was still tall, and hunched over beneath the low ceiling. Though he was in no danger of being spied on by curious newcomers, another outburst from Lewis caused the radio of the van to crackle with soft rock from the radio station Vivi had elected earlier that day.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Lewis screeched. “It’s complicated. I guaranteed Arthur would have survived! That was the extent of my restraint!”

Mystery rolled his eyes. Shoving off his rear legs, the dog leapt up and snared the purple tie at Lewis’ collar. Lewis buckled forward to the unexpected weight of Mystery leading, hauling him down.

“Mystery! Bad! Leggo! Mystery!” Lewis pressed his palms to the floor of the van and pushed, but Mystery dug his claws into the short plush and jerked back, snarling in his throat. “Why? Why!” Lewis reached out to snag him, but the dog released the tie and kicked away, then retreated a few steps out of the spirits reach. As Mystery hung back watching, Lewis spun around and leaned over. When he spun back the skull had resumed post above his collar, eye sockets gleaming and magenta flames bristling down his shoulders and back until the van was filled with a harsh fuchsia glow. “I’d stop if I were you.”

Mystery inched back, quiet, contemplative. His shoulders twitch when he gives a small yip and leaps over the bench seat, into the front of the van. Mystery nosed at the door on the passenger side, before bouncing over the seat at the driver side door. Both were locked and Mystery pawed at the door latch, trying to loop his paw through the pull handle. His claws scratching over the latch without traction, and there was little space between the handle and the door to hook his paw in easily.

The fire along Lewis’ shoulders flutters as it diminishes, the back of the van becoming dark as it was before. He watched Mystery struggle with the door, and felt his own fists clench tightly. “What is wrong with me? Damn it.”

After several failed attempts with his paw, the dog surrenders to simplicity and leans over to bite at the door handle. Mystery jerks back when Lewis reaches over, and grips the door handle before Mystery can get his teeth on it. Lewis is careful only to reach over the seat and kept his shape out of sight in the driver side window, while more cars roll up to fill the parking lot.

“I’m sorry,” Lewis says. “I don’t know what gets into me.” He pulls the handle, unlatching the door before he pushes the door open all the way. Mystery doesn’t waste his time in jumping out. “Vivi could be right. I might be scared. But,” Lewis detects Mystery’s still there, though timid. “I’ve never been afraid before. No.”

It was difficult for Lewis to admit that he, while investigating with his friends, had ever been fearful of what a case could offer in terms of danger. While running around investigating disappearances, cult activities, hostile spirits, his personal wellbeing was a moot concern. But… he had been afraid for his friends. The idea of them coming to harm did give him many restless nights. Still, Lewis felt that he had control over the situation. He would make sure no one was hurt or scared, and that they were never left behind. In those days, he had been there for them. He had always made sure he would be there, through thin or thick, dark or dreary, bleak or miserable. It didn’t matter what it took, and he’d always felt confident in his abilities. Looking back, it had been reckless.

Lewis settles down on the floor behind the driver side seat, passively letting his flames fade into his coat and collar as he watched the stars appear as only he could envision stars. He envisioned galaxies and suns, planets and worlds beyond his grasp. All swirling endlessly into the infinite pace that moved time, coasting through dark matter and scraping by the cusp of existence. He felt molten seas sizzle and roar, gases burbling and erupting in geysers of red and gray. Then ice. Fields of ice, sheets of endless glaciers chattering as the surface shifts, the only sounds echoing in a landscape void of wind. The endless blue shimmers with white slates like mirrors, opening into a chasm of the vacant abyss gazing and judging into the void of the universe.

Suddenly there is so much blue. Cold blue sea. It takes a moment for Lewis to return to himself, eye sockets brightening with pink flame. “Ah….”

Vivi frowns down at him. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?” she asks, a little concerned. They were all so concerned about each other lately, each of them fitted with dull ice skates dancing on china plates.

“No.” Lewis sits up and turns to Vivi. “I was just… thinking.”

Vivi hummed. “Careful. Great thoughts require great responsibility,” she says, with a smile.

“If I remember correctly—” Lewis is cut off when Vivi slaps a hand to the front of his teeth. It didn’t hinder his speech in anyway, but the gesture was recognized.

“Don’t ruin that for me,” Vivi mutters. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Lewis pushed her hand away and leaned a little over, raising himself to inspect the lack of sound and activity in the parking lot. “I wasn’t happy, let me put it that way,” he said. Lewis saw no one, and the parking lot was very dark but for the street lamps along the sidewalk soaking the edges of the black asphalt with canary yellow.

“I’m not sorry,” Vivi said, crossing her arms. “However, I am sorry to ask: It was getting late, and I wanted to get back into Kingsmen, but Lance locked the door. Is there a way you can get in?”

Perched behind Vivi’s feet was Mystery, just staring up at Lewis. Lewis adjusted his shoulders and began to fiddle with his tie, fitting it back into his suit. “I could manage something,” Lewis said. “Can you give me one moment, though?”

Vivi scowled. “Sure. But why?” She stepped back as Lewis took the door’s edge, and without an answer swung the door shut. He slapped the pin down and ducked out of sight. Vivi looked along the amber side of the dusty vehicle, as if she could see through walls and would learn what it was the ghost had bought time for. She turned and looked down at Mystery, but Mystery merely gave her his own dubious glance and raised his shoulders.

After too many minutes had passed, Vivi began to lose patience and was about to start banging on the vans side. The back door opened, and out glides Lewis. He set his feet to the asphalt and checked to make certain he had his heels down, then turned to inspect his palms and frowned.

“Oh,” Vivi said, upon seeing the face cloaking bone. “You should have said something.”

“And ruin the surprise?” Lewis asked, as he swung the door shut. He paused as his chest expanded, and he let out a crackly sound. “How was that?”

Vivi smirked as she approached him, and squint her eyes to one side. “Pretty good,” she says. “But it sounds weird. I like it, but it’ll confuse people I think.”

“I’ll work on it.” Lewis glanced down at Mystery still keeping behind Vivi. “Where’s this door then?” He waited for Vivi to walk pass him, before letting his outer visage echo his inner pang.

The Kingsmen Mechanics shop ended, but the brick wall that made up its side continued and connected with the building behind it. There was a metal gate in the wall about halfway between the two buildings, which led into a large back alley for scrap parts and was fitted with barbed wire on both the gates top and bottom, and more barbed wire was curled along the top of the high brick wall. A chain and padlock was wrapped around the adjoining bars of the gate, but the lock was not secured. Vivi pulled the padlock off and undid the chain and slid one gate aside, allowing Mystery through. She looked at Lewis when he stepped up, as she began to close the gate.

“Sorry,” Vivi said, and stepped aside as Lewis stepped through to join them. “When you project your alive appearance, does it prevent you from phasing through walls?”

Lewis glanced back as Vivi secures the chain, and fixed the padlock in place. “No,” he said. “Not at all, I don’t think,” and he sounded dubious, as if he never thought over it. “But I don’t want to get into the habit of it and forget.” He looked across the alley, and the collection of rusted and forgotten parts of engines and old tanks abandoned beside the wall. “What if Arthur’s already asleep?”

“He’s not,” Vivi assures, as she walks past Lewis. “That’s why we’re here.”

Lewis turned to give Mystery a look when the dog lingered at the gate. Mystery perked up his ears at the gaze and darted off to rejoin Vivi, as she weaves around the machine parts and the stains on the sidewalk. With a crackle like static Lewis followed them, silent and displeased.

The back alley is heavy with thick fumes of congealed grease, oil, and diesel fumes. Vivi leads the way around the discarded scrap, a few tarps covering engines and replacement equipment, until they come to a steel door set in the buildings backside. Vivi waits as Lewis gives the reinforced door a brief inspection. Lewis raises his hands and looks at his palms, before turning his hands to the doors surface and seems to forcibly shove himself through as if attempting to barrel the doors itself down. He fades through the steel surface with a purple-pink outline trailing around his shapes, as he soaks through the door. Vivi knelt down to give Mystery a few comforting strokes, before she hears the latch of the door echo.

“Open sez’me,” Lewis quipped. He opened the door more as Vivi stepped through, followed by Mystery.

The interior of the shop was darker than viscous ink, and the black seemed to thicken when Lewis shut the door behind them. “Hold on, don’t move,” Lewis voice echoed around Vivi’s ears. There was such force to the tone she obeyed without a sound, though standing within the suffocating murk was disconcerting. She briefly saw Lewis dart by, a line of pink fire trailing after his eyes and his gold-bluish locket thudding on his chest. He moved somewhere, but Vivi couldn’t see exactly where he had vanished.

“Can you see?” Vivi asked, when nothing happens. And no answer comes. “Lew?”

“Sort of,” his voice, from somewhere. The nature of his voice and the method it traveled by made it impossible to identify its origin point. “I found a switch,” Lewis said.

Vivi flinched when the light came on, not far from where she and Mystery stood. She blinked the remainder of the shade from her eyes as Lewis glides back to them. It was one of the phosphorus lamps above a work bench, a truck parked beside it. The garage had numerous vehicles parked inside for the evening, the large shutter doors drawn down and the endless black visible through the pristine clear glass window in each door. Everything was eerily quiet, as if the world beyond had just stopped.

Except for the low peeping sound that tapered up and down the white washed walls. Lewis stood beside Vivi taking in their surroundings, judging what was changed and what had remained the same since his last visit to Kingsmen Mechanics. He liked the new white walls, they seemed to brighten the place up and made the light travel to the furthest corners of the interior garage. Did Lance remodel the place? A lot of everything looked newer or brighter, or maybe he wasn’t focused enough.

The strange resonance faded and swelled at odd intervals, yet altogether seemed to be coming from every corner of the open floorplan of the garage. Lewis edged forward, aware that the sound was coming closer to them. His eyes brightened like stars as he scanned for the possible threat. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound human. He glared down and felt the energy of his form pucker with anticipation, as the source of the sound began to pinpoint not far from them. Lewis winced when a small orange ball on wheels scuttled into view. His eyes dimmed on the thing. The ball of fluff gazed back with large glossy eyes and blinked.

“Galahad!” Vivi said. She brushed past Lewis to where the small creature was squatted, still staring up at the tall specter.

“Gala— what?” Lewis stammered. He drew back when Vivi had picked up the little orange puff and presented it to his face. “A hamster?” Indeed, a hamster that sported a familiar hairstyle on the area between its dark ears, and a set of wheels where its back legs should be.

“Galahad. Like from the Arthurian legends,” Vivi explained, as she gave the hamster a gentle cuddle under her chin. “He was one of the Knights of the Round Table.”

“The hamster?” Lewis asked.

“No, the knight,” Vivi snapped. She smirked as Lewis smiled back. “What’s up Galaham? Did Arthur make it to bed?” To the mentioned of Arthur’s name, the hamster’s head perked and he began peeping. Mystery padded over to Vivi and stared up at the hamster as the small orange puff rotated his wheels, all the while turning his head to one direction of the garage. “Okay-okay,” Vivi cooed, and set Galahad down. “Where is he?”

Mystery snapped his ears up as Galahad took off. Mystery gave Vivi a quick glimpse before he sprang after the wheelie hamster.

“He’s probably in his work room,” Vivi said, as she followed the two racing off. “That’s on the other side of the garage, upstairs.” Lewis followed Vivi, and Mystery followed the swift orange blur as Galahad zipped under shelves and a few carts topped with heavy equipment. It was near impossible to keep up with the squeal of Galahad’s tires as he zipped through shadows, the sound of his wheels on the hard walls came from all sides of the room. But Vivi already knew Galahad’a destination. Or so she thought.

Vivi hurried to the far side of the garage, into a smaller section segregated by a wall with a large shutter door. Meanwhile, Lewis exerted no effort in keeping up with Vivi’s hurried steps, but he did pause occasionally to flip on a light and keep the hamster’s direction lit. The light barely traveled through the shutter door, but Vivi could make out the bottom of the cement steps just around the doorframe. She hastened up the steps to the dim light of the floor above, and Lewis glides ahead to the top, both leaving Galahad to begin working up the numerous large steps from below.

Also left behind, Mystery trotted up to the hamster and only paused to lean down and grip one wheel between his teeth before he sprang up the steps four and five at a time. When Mystery reached the top he set Galahad down and raised his head high to bark, pacing back and forth at the top step and waiting for Vivi and Lewis to catch his signal.

Vivi skid to a halt, and Lewis plopped down to skid through the floor by his heels. “Not in his work room?” Vivi murmured. She dashed back to the two, Lewis right on her heel. 

This time they followed Galahad, even so it was a struggle to keep pace. Though it was only the corridor they were headed down, across to the other end of the garage. “Galahad’s usually this excitable, right?” Lewis asked. “It’s just a hamster thing?” Vivi said nothing, and Lewis internally cursed.

Galahad took an abrupt turn, squeezing through a door left ajar and parked himself right beside the doorframe as his companions spilled through. He gave a small chirp and directed an arm to the room before them. Mystery wriggled between Vivi and Lewis and took a position on the opposite wall, he scanned over the shelves and the disaster set before them. A soft whine escaped the dog as his ears tucked back along his head.

“Oh geez,” Lewis hissed. 

The room had a few metal shelves, each filled with boxes, some machinery, and an assortment of colorful and curly tubes. Before the center line of shelves was a workbench marred by every burn, scrape, dent, and cut imaginable. Cords were attached to socket plugs fixed above in the low ceiling, extending down to the work bench and the racks fixed to the metal shelves behind the worktable. Solder tools, buzz saws, and sets of pliers from miniscule tweezers to massive monkey wrenches had been littered over the surface of the cluttered worktable, but most seemed to have found suitable stations across the floor. Tools and pieces of equipment were scattered around the metal arm left clamped, and somehow still intact, upon the worktables marred top. Half the room was cast in long disfigured shadows, due to one work light that was knocked from one of its tether which left it to dangle sideways, still and amenable.

Stuffed into one of the lowest cuvees of the metal shelves, amongst clutter and beside a pool of oil marinating on the floor, was a pair of red stained pants.

Lewis rattled something and swooped away from Vivi in a sudden gust. He perched beside the shelf, careful of the oil, and with another hissing sound Lewis reached up under the shelf and carefully tugged Arthur out by his good arm. Vivi skipped over, avoiding the pieces and parts that had been thrown across the floor. Lewis maneuvered away from the glossy oil mess before he settled down and shook Arthur by his torso, his blazing eyes occasionally cast over the blackened and red sleeve.

“Damn it Art, wake up,” Lewis hissed. He let Arthur’s body sag over his thigh and shook harder, but never enough to jostle and break what few joints remained. “Speak to me. C’mon, answer!” Lewis supported Arthur’s back with one hand and set his other hand over Arthur’s face and felt for a breath. Faint but not encouraging. He gripped Arthur’s chin and shook his head, in an effort to restrain himself from slapping the hell out of the comatose figure. “Arthur! ARTHUR. I need a sign, a response! Or so help me—” Lewis twitched when Vivi set a hand on his shoulder. He was about to snap something at her, when a low moan came from the sorry sack of human remains. Lewis glared down. He didn’t once allow himself the thought that he may appear terrifying, eyes black with rosy fire burning in their sockets. In fact, Lewis didn’t give a flying fuck. He needed to make sure Arthur was still there, in some sense or another.

Arthur’s eyes scrunch tighter before opening a crack. His vest was removed, and numerous small blotches of grease or some other odd colors stained his once white shirt, and a yellow-black ring was in his empty shoulder sleeve where his arm should be. But Arthur’s eyes opened, struggled to take in light and sights while he picked up on muffled sound. Above his face he saw the sharp stabs of white light and a dark face, eyes blazing and unforgiving. There were other shapes and shades bobbing around, but not as clear, not as focused as the visage staring.

One of Arthur’s eyes snapped open and fixed on the face. “L-Lewis?” he burbled, reaching out his only arm. “It’s you, isn’t it? Lewis? You came back.”

Lewis hesitates. Arthur was… Arthur was someplace else. His expression was calm, collecting slowly, but his aura was in five different directions, twisting and wriggling to find a suitable station in which to settle. It unnerved Lewis. “Hey,” Lewis hummed, almost melodic, gentle and sturdy. “A little more, Arty.”

Arthur’s other eye pried open slowly, and recognition swung heavily through his broken expression. The eyes became hollow as his mind drifted, Lewis felt Arthur’s mind dive into somewhere distant. A dark place, cold— No. Icy and dank. The air tinged with decay, rolls of sharp vapor nested among rocks and dirt, noxious gas seeping through damp stone.

“Careful,” Lewis said.

Arthur snapped his arm out and took hold of Lewis sharp collar, gripping the wispy fabric for dear life. There was anger and focus in Arthur’s eyes, and he tightened his fist into Lewis collar and would never, ever let go. Through clenched teeth Arthur muttered, “Gotcha.”

Lewis let his eyes trail away. He nearly turned to check Vivi, when Arthur let out a gurgled sob. Lewis returned his focus to Arthur, as the other hauled himself up by his arm and pressed his head into Lewis’ chest. “I’m sorry,” Arthur whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” That’s all he said, over and over. Arthur pressed his face harder into Lewis’ chest taking in short breaths, only to refuel his mantra. “I tried to grab you. I meant to grab you, but… stupid. I saw you fall. I watched you FALL. I watched.” Arthur couldn’t do much but curl down over his good arm. “I… used the wrong arm. I did it wrong, I fucked up. I fucked it all up. I can’t— couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t fix….”

Vivi looked around at all the parts and pieces scattered, and looked back to Galahad and Mystery by the doorway. Lewis followed her eyes over the floor, where a few wires were scattered, a bent pair of pliers and the spilled oil, among the superficial evidence of unrestrained fury with no target, no outlet. Just direction.

It was all so familiar. Like a distant dream, in a different world. Galaxies away. A lifetime ago.

Lewis wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him up, but Arthur tensed and bawled harder. “Don’t kill me,” he yelped, trying to push away from Lewis. “Don’t kill…. sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Quiet Arty,” Lewis hissed. He squeezed Arthur a little more and glared across the room at nothing in particular, except perhaps the few bits of metal as if they had any responsibility over Arthur’s current state. “Just shh,” Lewis continued, a little softer. “No one’s going to kill you.” Arthur was a complete mess, arm limp and face pressed into Lewis’ collar. “Art. Would you listen to me?” Arthur said nothing, but he slumped into Lewis’ a little more and his sharp breaths had lessened, accompanied by the timid hiccup. “I don’t want you to fall. I don’t want you to follow me.” Lewis glanced back over his shoulder a bit, when he picked up on Vivi slipping down to sit beside them.

Arthur mumbled something and seemed to hide in Lewis’ arms a little more, if that was possible.

“Do you see that?” Lewis said. He glared at the floor, the shimmering puddle of oil where his reflection wavered. Lewis pondered with no solution, and no way to say the words Arthur may need to hear. _I can’t. I won’t_. He coiled around Arthur more. “There’s a pit.” He winced when Arthur trembled and sobbed harder. “But listen, Arthur. We should head back,” he said, trying to recall his last words as a living, breathing person. “We’ll regroup.”

“Lewis, no,” Arthur choked. “No-no.”

“I’m not falling,” Lewis hummed. “We’re not falling. It’s okay, open your eyes.” Lewis refused to loosen his hold on Arthur, until the broken figure had raised his head an inch and opened his eyes to meet Lewis’ steady gaze. “Hey.”

“Lew,” Arthur said. His arm fumbled around trying to find a hold but eventually gave up. Arthur stares at Lewis as if not seeing, but remembering. “You’re here.”

Lewis ducked his head into a nod. Arthur found a place for his arm, encircling Lewis’ side as far as it could and clutching at one of the ribs that connected to his spine. “Stay with us, Art.”

Arthur dropped his forehead to the dark suit and focused on the texture, the blues and purples that refracted light all wrong. “I pushed you,” Arthur mumbled.

“It’s not a contest. You couldn’t stop,” Lewis said. He focused on the scattered bits of surviving cogs and metal, and mulled over the differences in shape and function Lewis thought about the van, and thought about the things that once gave him restless nights. “I could,” he began, “but I didn’t. That’s the decisive edge. Now drop it.”

“Fine.” And Arthur said nothing more after that. There was a short pause before Lewis leaned back to find that Arthur had lost his battle with exhaustion. 

Lewis frowned. “This dork.” He looked over as Vivi moved to her feet and tugged at his shoulder.

“It looks like he cut himself,” Vivi says. She leaned on Lewis’ shoulder as she touched Arthur’s brow and sighed. Arthur was fine, maybe. He would be all right. “There’s a couch in his work station, and I’ll get a kit.” Vivi left through the door, and headed down the corridor.

Lewis lifts Arthur up with him and trudges into the corridor and moves into the opposite direction Vivi had gone. The low squeak of the hamsters wheels followed, Galahad keeping watch of his companion; besides the soft piping was the pad and click of Mystery’s claws on the floor.

The thought now hovered in Lewis’ mind that his presence was more damning to Arthur than his absence, but that shouldn’t come as a surprise. It hadn’t, and he didn’t allow himself the guilt or concern he might, should have felt. Another tether, another unsurpassable wall. 

The fall. 

When he awoke, as he so often did at the conclusion of a nightmare, it was not safe and in a warm bed surrounded by friends. Later. Later and later, and much later, he accepted that he would have no more restless nights. The recollection wounded him somewhere deep, and somewhere none tangible.

“I could’ve just haunted you,” Lewis muttered. Arthur’s aura was pooling, the erratic tendrils slowed into a cohesion that was preferred and agreeable. . “But where’s the sport in that?”

A low growl came from Lewis’ back. The spirit glanced over his shoulder, stunned to find it was Galahad that was making the hostile sound; while Mystery glanced between him and the small fluff ball with uncertainty.

“Just a joke, little hermano,” Lewis assured. “He’s having a hard struggle in him, and there’s nothing I can do to amend that.”

The work room Arthur utilized as his own was cluttered with tables, all decorated with every piece or part and cog Arthur had carefully ‘adopted’ from the garage. Lewis set Arthur on the beaten up couch near the door, and gave the room a brief scan. Walls had hooks and pegs screwed into the cinderblock surface to cradle additional tools and motors, or cords. A blanket was left draped over the coffee tables beside the couch, and Lewis took it up and folded it as he further examined the room while Mystery and Galahad remained near the couch.

Lewis was setting the blanket down on the back of the couch when Vivi arrived, the white first aid kit in hand. The spirit drifts away to admire the random worktables shoved at odd angles around the small room. Lewis never liked to see the scars Arthur had acquired throughout his misadventures with the Mystery Skulls, and Lewis most certainly did not want to pick out the new ones Arthur had claimed in his most recent travels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers gently* Someday I will ask for prompts. Because this fandom cannot live without the ideas of others <3


	5. Chapter 5

##### 

Glass Anvils

The room is dimly lit when he awakens. The lamp on the coffee table is on its lowest setting and the pale light builds a gold dome over the floor, before breaking around the numerous countertops left at odd angels around the room. Order was an elusive concept in his mind, and translated to chaos when projected from his mind. He doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s either very late or very early judging by how still the air is. He doesn’t recall when he turned in for the evening, but he does remember there is still too much work to do.

Arthur stretches, careful not to stir Vivi where she lays with her head on his lap. He leans over sliding his arm under her folded arms and lifts her, so he could wriggle out from under her. Arthur’s movements do momentarily rouse Mystery. The dog, sleeping on the couch at Arthur’s feet, gives his companion an annoyed glare before curling back down into the lumpy cushion. Arthur murmurs an apology, as he sets Vivi’s tangled arms and head down on the couch where he had lain. He adjusts the blanket wrapped over her shoulders, before slipping off the sofa and locating his travel bag placed on the floor beside the couch.

The air was brisk on his bare skin and only a wrap of beige gauze has been fixed to the remains of his shoulder, above the connector chute of his prosthetic. Arthur touches the medical wrapping and feels the faint sting of the injury beneath. How did that happen? Later he would remove the bandage and take a look, but he judged his hand must have slipped while he was groggy and making an adjustment in the connector for the new prosthetic. This happened too often and he chided himself. Arthur needed to be more careful, he didn’t have much arm left. 

Arthur looked back over at Mystery on the sofa, content and sleeping beside Vivi’s head. He didn’t know what they would do without that dog.

With his fingers and thumb, he wriggled the zipper of his bag along inch by inch, deftly with one hand until the sack was fully open. Arthur plucks out one clean short sleeved shirt and fumbles hid hand around into the neck, until he finds the rough label with his thumb and twists the shirt around. With the shirt adjusted proper, he takes the inside of the right sleeve and drags the shirt down over his shoulders. He pushes his one arm free and reaches over to fix the empty left sleeve.

It didn’t really matter, Arthur reflects as he picked up his personal bag. The stump would constantly slip in or out of the sleeve, but that didn’t bother him too much. Only when he was frustrated and he needed some form of distraction, or some alternative outlet for his irritation. Another reason he hated wearing his sleeves down, or long sleeved shirts for that matter. He didn’t like pinning the remaining sleeve up, in the scenario he had to remove the prosthetic for whatever reason (sleep usually). One time he did cut the sleeve off in a fit of frustration, but afterwards it just made him look more pathetic, in his opinion. It was just easier….

Arthur paused as he moved towards the door. That steady rhythm. He hadn’t noticed it before, until there was the faint whisper of a page crinkling. Arthur caught movement in the edge of his eye as he spun and saw a dark shape positioned at one of the work tables closets to the wall. The bag made a sharp _Pop!_ when it hit the floor, and Arthur recoils from both the sound and the shadow. He doesn’t recognize the gloomy figure until vibrant magenta replaces the hair, and a hollow gap takes residence where the neck was a moment before. His mind is still not at ease, though he is aware by the sudden jolt of the figure that it was startled by the random sound as well. The only one unaffected was Vivi, buried under the blanket; and maybe Mystery, but the dog’s eyes had only cracked a portion to stare at Arthur with irritation. The air hangs with the pause as the echo of the bag’s sudden acquaintance with the floor dims, under the sound of the subdued thrum of the locket.

“Arthur?” Lewis says, voice below a rasp. The answer doesn’t come right away, but Lewis vouches for no hasty movements until the other has adjusted. He sets the book he was reading down among the clutter and scratched top of the table. When only the silence holds residence, Lewis calls again, “Is that you?”

A quick farewell and retreat appeals to Arthur, but that just didn’t seem right. “Yeah. It’s me,” Arthur says. He reaches down and takes up his bag. “I didn’t know you… uh, had risen? You okay?” He hesitates. “Well, you look fine now, but are you? I got really worried.”

“Better,” Lewis says. He ponders over Arthur’s presence and mood without looking back. “About last night?” he began, pausing as he put the question together. “What happened? We found you, and you had collapsed.”

Arthur shifted his hand over, but he was still holding the bag. “I collapsed?” he echoed. He remembered vaguely wishing Lance a good night, but Arthur was too engrossed with work to look up. Not long after that, Galahad had rolled off as he usually did to explore the empty garage. But that was it. He didn’t do anything else. “I must’ve been working too hard. There’s still a lot I have to get done.” Even through the pale light, Arthur could pick up on a fog of discomfort ebbing at Lewis. “Did… something happen?”

Lewis didn’t make a sound. He thumbed at the book he set on the desk, trying to focus on pushing his thumb into the pages without sinking through their outline. “I cleaned up the other work room.”

“Huh?” Unease swam through Arthur. “You didn’t try to organize anything, did you?” He wasn’t even halfway done with the prosthetic, and it took a while for him to get all the parts he could carry with one arm.

“No,” Lewis answered. “I just picked up the floor a bit.”

Arthur exhaled a tight breath. “Good, thanks… I guess. I mean, you didn’t have to.”

“I know.” The skull bobbed in a nod. Without a sound Lewis slipped from the chair, glided though it as he drifts to raise himself upright and faced Arthur. “Would you like me to heat something up for you?”

Arthur made a meditative sound in his throat. He set the bag down and fished around in his pants pocket for his pocket watch. The lounge had the small fridge and microwave, as well as the coffee makers for the staff. Lance would expect him to get the coffee going since Arthur was up, but Lance would also be arriving in less than thirty minutes to get the garage itself opened up and ready to receive customers. But Lewis was probably hunting for something productive to do, even if it was microwaved meals.

“A pepperoni hot pocket,” Arthur says. “And can you get the coffee makers going?” He pockets his watch and grabs the bag again, before turning away. 

“I think so.” Lewis pushes the chair out of his way as he follows Arthur to the door, careful to keep his distance from the other. Before he steps out Lewis takes one glimpse of Vivi and Mystery, and ducks out of the room. “Everything’s in the cabinets in the break room?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says, hurrying to the steps. It struck him odd momentarily that Lewis would follow him, when he could theoretically go through walls and float. But he said nothing. Instead, he reminds, “And don’t let Uncle Lance see ya.”

When Lance arrived later to open shop and check in with Arthur and company, fresh coffee was brewing in the lounge. Suspiciously good coffee. He questioned if Arthur had gotten any sleep the night before, and Arthur endured some mild suspicion from his uncle before Lance let him be. Galahad was on the solder table assisting Arthur in fixing pieces in place when one hand was too little, the hamster’s cooperation a sure sign that Arthur had taken pause in his work.

The following days, Kingsmen Mechanics developed a reputation for being ‘spooked.’ It was no shock that the mechanics Lance had employed, burly or sweaty men from varied backgrounds, would be superstitious people. None of the staff mentioned it to Lance directly, but the conversations began to float around within noon of the first day, and by the second day even the customers were seeing shadows at the corners of their eyes or shapes in the mirrors around the shop. 

Lance was not as superstitious as his hired hands, and not as into the paranormal as Arthur’s crew was, but he managed to keep his jumpiest mechanics soothed with the prospect that they were willing to lose a good job over words. Besides that, business had increased due to curious patrons dropping by to verify the rumors, or in hopes of catching sight of the shadow people. For certain Lance didn’t give a damn the motives of his customers, as long as they paid for legitimate services and were respectable people.

Right on the first day Vivi managed to catch Lewis in one of the upper work rooms and gave him a firm talking to about the issue, but Lewis insisted it was none of his doing. Tentatively, Lewis did suggest that the rooms could be salted, just in case. Vivi denied this would be necessary, and settled instead to drag Lewis away from the shop whenever possible to adjust him to being around People while projecting his Alive appearance. The van was left to Lance for its maintenance check, and Mystery stayed with Arthur to make sure he didn’t suffer another breakdown.

They started slow, a quick trip over to Vivi’s station of employment at the Tome Tomb comic store. Vivi had some books that she had acquired on their recent trip, and she had another check to pick up. Vivi managed a heavy amount of the online sales and purchases, while also picking up rare or interesting books sold by private dealers online. Aside from sales and inventory control, Vivi could keep track of the paranormal market and promote the Tome Tomb on blog spots. This kept the shop from falling too far behind big name competitors, by offering loyal customers rarity items. And if a certain book could be found nowhere online, Vivi had a knack for finding physical copies during their various travels.

Lewis still struggled to shrug off his death suit, and the fact he couldn’t decide how it was he projected his living appearance fueled his aggravation. As always, Vivi was a stern but patient coach. Often they had to stop at some store or some shady alley for Lewis to take a moment and collect himself. Vivi had purchased him a wool sweater, alpaca she insisted, and some gloves to further mask him for the time. Lewis’ shadow was also… wrong, but not as noticeable as his first encounter with a mirror. His head and legs were a pale shade of gray, the sun flittering through his shape and cutting over the solid fabric of the clothing he wore. Vivi never mentioned it, since Lewis had too much to work on as it was. But he was determined to master the skill (ghostly abilities), which was why she pushed him so hard. Otherwise, she’d still be in those ice skates tiptoeing over china.

Vivi spent a few minutes in the comic store for the usual review, drop off of the books, and catch up with co-workers. Even if Lewis knew he could go in, he couldn’t. The Tome Tomb had problems some time back with hostile spirits, and Vivi had pretty much solidified her employment with barrier charms hung by the shops door. Tough luck, but as Vivi put it, Lewis could have some time on his own and stray a bit out of his comfort zone.

For the first time, Vivi took note of a framed newspaper clipping that was on the wall behind the glass counter that stretched out near the front of the store. She asked to see it right quick. The employee currently on shift spun around to take the picture and with a tight face, he set the frame clipping beside the stack of books Vivi had brought in. Vivi read through the newspaper article in silence. An abrupt giggle jumped from her throat and Vivi had to cover her mouth, in response to the grimace her coworker had taken.

“Sorry,” Vivi said, and dabbed at her eye with her scarf. “Something funny. It’s sweet.” She would tease Lewis later.

“Do you…” the employee, a young guy still in high school with an ear piercing, began, “You remember him? They said not to say anything, but….” He let his voice tapper off when Vivi leaned back and shook her head.

Vivi would TEASE Lewis relentlessly, later. “No. But I feel like I’m starting to remember him.” She took note the date on the clipping, her smile faded some. “Did you ever meet him?”

The employee shrugged his shoulders and fumbled with the edge of the frame. “Not really. We talked once, but that was not long before….” He sighed and let his shoulders slump, as he pressed his elbows to the glass counter. “I said it before, but you were kind of oblivious? But I give my condolences. He seemed like a real chill guy.” He looked up when Vivi set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“It’s okay, really,” Vivi said. “Things get better.” To those encouraging words the employee nods, and he takes the framed clipping to return it to the wall.

Afterwards, Vivi said a goodbye, and left to rejoin Lewis a few shops down at a café. She would wait until later to tease him, Lewis needed to stay focused.

__

The eventual did happen, and Arthur was putting the last touches on the first completed arm. He was fidgeting, in part that he had a tendency to nitpick personal projects into the dirt. It was late in the evening, the shop now closed and Uncle Lance had gone back to his and Arthur’s home. As per his nature, Arthur had stayed at the shop and was fixing the last points at the base of the arm, where it would attach into the connector chute in his arm. Vivi was on the sofa giving Mystery some much needed praise and attention, while Lewis had taken post at the work desk beside the wall. The Closed hours were the only time when the group could sit together, void of the distracting worries that someone would stumble onto them.

Arthur was filing down some over-welded seams on the arm, when Vivi brought up the subject. “Have you been seeing the shadows, Arthur?” she asked, while rubbing Mystery’s ears between her palms to warm the velvety dog radars. “You’re usually sensitive to those sort of things.”

“Naw,” he said. “No, not really. I thought about salting my room just in case, but of course I’m too busy.” Arthur picked up a screwdriver and motioned to Lewis ‘seated’ at the messy table. “And that would be uncool.”

Lewis glanced over but decided not to answer. A long time ago he had set his book down to address his new companion on the table. “I honestly don’t know why anyone would be seeing shadow people,” Lewis, again, defends. “It’s usually when I’m not around, isn’t it?”

“No,” Arthur said. “I have noticed, it’s only when you’re around. I asked about it when I went down for the other jobs, and the guys can’t shut up about it. They must think we brought something back with us?” Arthur turns the handle of the clamp, tightening the jaws hold of the metal prosthetic. “I guess that is what we’ve done— Or, it’s what I did.”

“I have no regrets over the matter,” Lewis admitted. “But I think things will go back to normal here once we get a move on.”

Vivi had lain down behind Mystery and was rubbing the dog’s shoulders, as he sat perched on the edge of the sofa beside here. “I have a route set, some places we can think about stopping along the way,” Vivi says. “We’ve got nothing immediate planned.”

“Cool. Cool,” Arthur hummed. “No forever road or late night driving will daunt our way.” Arthur stands up as he adjusts the clamp and moves the light on the table. He’s a little more distracted than he’d like to be, only because he knows now where Galahad had gotten to. “I was thinking of a resonance,” he says, in a way to change the subject’s direction. “You didn’t really make the mansion, it just sort of came. Maybe you’re still doing it, or trying. Like a habit?” 

Vivi shifts on her side to peer over the arm of the sofa as much as she could, to where Lewis was. “And Arthur’s over analytical mind of physics and engineering rears itself again,” she enthused, and slumps back down. “Could be something you were compelled to do with no effort, sort like,” Vivi thought to say breathing, but quickly worked out a more appropriate allegory, “Thoughts. Just thinking, and the compulsion to think.”

“Could be,” Lewis hummed. “I did inspire the architecture, the layout of the halls and rooms. Once I knew what I wanted, little by little it became. But it doesn’t feel the same now. Now, I don’t feel like I’m doing much of anything, save for my appearance.”

“We don’t really feel thoughts either,” Vivi says. She’s focused on rubbing her hands gently down Mystery’s shoulders, and kneads at the tense muscle under the soft white coat until the dog surrenders and melts onto the couch beside her. “What are they even? A voice in our head. And if we can’t deal with it, we talk aloud.” Vivi keeps an eye on Arthur, clinking at the metal and the sporadic flicker of the lamplight on the desk he works as he adjusts the light to view the prosthetic arms open end. “This was something I thought of,” she said, voice soft, “but the deadbeats may have been drawn to you because of that. The mansion. They couldn’t find their own way, but your home was probably the closest they could find.”

Lewis raises his shoulders in a shrug. “They just sort of… were,” he says. “There suddenly. I don’t remember a specific day or time.” The tone of his voice thinned, as he stared at his hands upon the table and the orange ball of fluff there. “I can’t even recall if they came because the mansion, or if I had seen them before.” He looked away from the table, over to the top of Vivi’s blue head partially hidden behind the sofa’s arm. “But they were welcome there,” Lewis voice rattles, with a resonance akin to fondness. “They helped.”

Arthur paused to watch Lewis gently scratch under Galahad’s chin. The hamster didn’t seem bothered by the spirit, but Galahad was always a fearless little dude. Lewis glanced over at Arthur, and Arthur jarred out of his staring to resume his work. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says, with a huff. “Nearly done. I might get around to making some progress on the second one, but I doubt it.”

“Don’t overwork yourself,” Lewis warns. He glides away from the table leaving Galahad stranded where he is on the cluttered work top, and Lewis moves around the room to stand beside the sofa. Vivi is curled up on her side, eyes shutting blearily until her eyes close altogether and her breathing becomes steady. Mystery remains tangled in her arms but as always has no complaint, though Mystery does watch Lewis as he drifts by to perch on the opposite arm of the sofa. “You’re nearly done. Even I, a person no longer tethered by the natural laws of physics, can make out that much by your work.”

As Arthur readjusted the arm in the clamp, he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’d like to have my balance restored,” Arthur says. “People don’t stare as much, y’know? They see something attached to your shoulder, and automatically their mind fills in the blanks. Symmetry. They don’t see a problem first, they see an outline. Then the stares are mild curiosity, sometimes fascination. But not much pity. I’m different, but not broken. I cope, but I don’t struggle.” Arthur sets the screwdriver aside and grips the handle of the clamp, but pauses. “Sometimes you’re the only one that can put yourself back together.”

A soft peeping came from below, and Lewis turned to look down and see that somehow Galahad had managed off the table and was beside the couch. Galahad wheeled around and over his shoes peeping for attention, and would peer up at Lewis with his large black eyes. It was endearing, but Lewis felt ripples of concern if he became too attached to the hamster.

“Hey Galaham, don’t pester the guy,” Arthur said. “If he doesn’t wanna pet you, then let him be.” Arthur fumbled to undo the gauze wrapping on his upper arm. He had seen the injury a few times when he was forced to shower, but it still mystified him.

“We found you passed out,” Lewis offered. “Vivi dressed your wound.” 

Arthur nodded silently, still staring at the ugly red burn. He took a mirror from his table and set it beside him, then took a sharp tool from the numerous scattered over the table and fiddled with a prong inside the connectors housing. “My arm must’ve slipped when I was repairing the chute, it was smashed and bent bad,” Arthur murmured. “It happens too often ‘cause of the awkward angle I have to work with.” Lewis gripped the sofa arm that he was perched upon; he felt that more than often that injury wasn’t inflicted by a careless hand. “Ask Vivi,” Arthur went on. “Wait, is she asleep? Can you just… not look like yourself? I am happy you can do that, trust me but— Fuck.” He reached over and set his hand down on the metal wrist of the prosthetic resting on the worktable, and tilts his head back to stare at the dark bars and cables of the ceiling above.

Lewis made a soft crackle sound as he moved to his feet, his attention placed on the floor where Galahad scooted about. Of course he wasn’t walking, but he was still conscious of the little hamster wheeling around and waiting for some attention. Lewis looked at Vivi and felt the doubt suffocating the remorse for his erratic deed, lessen by some amount. It had not ceased to unsettle Lewis at any point when he was evicted from his searing bitterness, and he could never deny that he had committed a hideous crime, but Vivi could look at him now and smile, void of those memories haunting the areas behind her eyes. Mystery looked to be deep amid slumber as well, so Lewis was able to take the glasses off Vivi and set them on the coffee table. He pulled up the blanket left crumpled up in the corner of the sofa and covered the two sleepers.

“If Vivi wakes up,” Lewis says, as he steps away, “tell her I went to rest in the van for a bit.” 

“I didn’t tell you to leave,” Arthur snapped. “I don’t want you to leave. I need you to stay.” His fingers fumbled with the metal fingers of the prosthetic, and he could almost feel the device attached to his arm and that familiar sense of pressure he had developed in the prosthetics interactions. “Just stay,” he whispered. “I need someone here. Someone that knows how terrible I am. I don’t—” Arthur drew up his fist to his brow and shrank down under his skin. “I don’t want to be left alone.” He shuddered at the chilly air, and looked up when he detected a sudden presence. He was a little startled by Lewis close proximity, skull bleached and pink fire burning in the depths of his eye sockets.

“C’mon,” Lewis says, as he takes Arthur by the shoulders. “You’re getting some rest now.” Arthur doesn’t protest as Lewis guides him over to the sofa, and makes Arthur lay down in the corner opposite of Vivi and Mystery. Lewis tugs a section of the blanket free from Vivi and covers Arthur.

Arthur snuggled down, and watched as Lewis ducked away only to reappear from behind the sofa with Galahad in hand. Arthur stared at the little hamster as he was set on the blanket, and reached up his hand to stroke one of the wheels Galahad wore. Arthur sighed. “Why is life so shitty?” he asks.

Lewis folded one arm under him, over the back of the sofa, and perched his skull upon the crook of his arm. “Good things tend to break,” says the ghost. “Perfection is a lunatics dream. Flaws are natural, they help us see what we normally wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, and a small painful sound was caught in his throat. “But why—” He winced when he looked up and saw Lewis’ outstretched hand, just before the dark palm settled on his forehead.

“Shut up. Just get some rest.” Lewis gently coaxed the heavy eyelids shut and pressed his palm to Arthur’s face. Arthur relaxes and feels himself diving, falling, into a black void as dark as Lewis’ hands. In this place as deep and endless as midnight, nothing exists but a null of presence, comfort, and perpetual rest. “No nightmares for you,” Lewis hums. “Not tonight.”

Once Arthur’s breathing became placid, Lewis lowered his hand and gave Galahad a gentle scratch. Lewis then turns his gaze onto Vivi and Mystery. He reached his free arm over and strokes Vivi’s cheek, and hummed a soft tune that spun on the empty air that hung within the small room. Lewis decides it was lonely to be the cause of so much pain. He missed his mansion, and he missed the deadbeats always present and mischievous, always curious. He missed the sequential waiting and reflection, and inexorable vehemence that fueled his passion for his current existence. But most of all, he missed his friends. 

__

They packed and left the following morning. Arthur finished up one arm to satisfactory condition, and packed the additional parts and motors he foresaw would be needed for eventual repairs. While Lance took Arthur by their home to pick up extra clothing and essentials, Vivi took Lewis and Mystery to pick up additional supplies for the long hours of road between stops. In all the rush Vivi did manage by her own home to visit with her family and apologize for being so busy, before she whisked away as always. With formalities and preparation concluded, the group loaded up newly acquired goods, supplies, and a cooler for the road that had patiently awaited their return.

That had been late morning, nearly three hours ago.

Voices drifted across the busy thoroughfare, jovial patrons coming and going. Engines roared as vehicles entered the parking lot and fade, while others bellowed to life in the constant cycle, coming and going. Never slowing even during the low hours of the day; always busy, the restaurant buzzing with unruly activity. Lewis concentrated, and could almost feel the interior of the building. The cacophony of voices bouncing between the walls, the sweet scent of food cooking, dough baking, and meat frying. He felt it somewhere within him, where he usually felt himself — the odd scent of stale water, the delicate aroma of freshly chopped vegetables, and spicy peppers bubbling in his sinuses. People yelling with urgency as steam gushed, voices commanding, sometimes laughing. Warmth. Belonging. Memories.

Cold air moved through him, and he came back to the present. He focused once more on the parking lot, as more cars came and others went. A steady stream of content people, whom took the simplicity of their world for granted. Lewis reached a hand up to clasp the locket gently thumping at his chest, and let himself fade more into the shadow of the tree he stood under. He didn’t want someone to glance out a window and catch his figure waiting, watching. He couldn’t bear to think what his family might take of his appearance. It was too soon. Maybe they would take it as a good omen, but that didn’t settle right in him. They would be reminded. He didn’t want them to remember, and Lewis didn’t want to remember. He wanted closure.

Vivi had brought it up. She waited until Arthur was about to start the engine of the van and made sure to ask before he could grip the drive shift. As expected Arthur froze, and Vivi was uncertain if he’d be able to drive. Lewis, occupying the passenger seat, had turned slowly to give her a stare she could not make out through the dark sunglasses. She regretted the question, but honestly Vivi had almost forgotten about her own family upon returning to their home town. They came by for Arthur’s sake, pretty much. That’s what she told herself.

“I just wanted you to consider it,” Vivi said. She began to lean away, returning to the back of the van. “I didn’t know if it would be something you would have thought of. They’re your family, Lew. I can’t stand thinking we’re stealing you away from them again.”

Here he stood now, a hollow languid shape. Desire burned in him, hotter than vengeance and rage. Lewis yearned to race across the road and burst through those doors, see his family. Greet his siblings, embrace his mother and father. Assure them that everything was okay, he was doing well and was ready for another adventure on the wild and open road.

Lies. He wasn’t okay, he hadn’t survived. Lewis’ state of presence had altered, he had been exiled from the plain of the living. There was no amending the issue with a smile and some comforting words. Only something so unmovable and indiscriminate in action could smooth out the fine scars left behind.

Time.

Lewis lost track of time. It was getting late and no one, Vivi, Arthur, or Mystery, had come to collect him. They let him have his brief pause of existence to absolve a piece of himself, but even that had interwoven grief into his musings. The part of him that was none physical, the vapor and core essence of himself that was more crucial than blood and bone, brain or heart. He didn’t belong here anymore, yet he was compelled and sentimental. His sense of adoration drove a thick spike through Lewis’ metaphorical heart, urging him to save his family, protect them from lies and false hopes.

Without a second glance, without regret, Lewis turns away and made his slow journey along the road. It is never cowardice to withdraw from the unconditional love of family, when one is already so well versed with how much pain is inflicted through goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the only part of this chapter I can deal with is the title, and my titles are about as good as a flat, warm, beer.
> 
> So let me explain a thing about my ambiguous tiptoe ways. No, Arthur doesn't remember he had a mental breakdown. No, you'll never find out what exactly happened in the solder room - fuck, even I don't know. I just know something terrible happened, and then Arthur freaked out because he can't deal with Lewis right now. No, I don't know what Vivi thought was funny on the newspaper clipping, but hopefully we'll find out soon *crosses fingers* 
> 
> I wrote this chapter out. Hated it. Went through deleted a bunch stuff, shortened it, fixed some things. It's a shoddy piece of closure-and-moving, but i literally would like to move on. So hopefully, my lovely readers, I have not disappointed you. ps, I have a yearning to watch "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" because that is somewhat how I would like to headcanon envision Lewis' family. That movie rocks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Mystery Skulls visit a condemned welding plant rumored to be haunted. The group encounters shadow people lingering and cold spots, but one spirit in particular offers cryptic advice regarding a shy spook that does not wish to be bothered._

##### Contacts

The mom and pop diner had been around for a quarter of the century and sustained its self through the regulars and travelers passing through, or infrequent few that come by from the thoroughfare where the line of hotels and motels had sprung up over the decades. A steady fog of amber sun gleamed through the thin paned windows that faced the parking lot, beyond awaited the road and the distance motels. It was customary of restaurants with outdated stoves to raise a dull haze into the ceiling, for which the air transported rich currents of coffee, sizzling bacon and eggs, and cooking potatoes.

This old time atmosphere was lost on regulars who frequented these places, the promise of good coffee and a warm meal the only acquisition worth the time allotted. Sometimes this reward was a ruse, and the disappointed customer would mark it down on the migration as a place that would never see a bill from their wallet again. Vivi didn’t care, as she had her fair share of substandard meals that were not prepared by strangers, food was food. Traveling as her group did on a tight schedule and a stricter budget, beggars couldn’t be choosy.

“I must interject,” Arthur began, as he scooted his coffee mug nearer to the edge of the worn plastic table when the waiter came by. Arhur waited until the waiter refilled his mug and stepped away, before he continued, “that this spirit you guys saw may have been screwin’ with you. Lewis in particular.” Arthur took a sip before the steam could settle.

Vivi shrugged. She tapped away at the computer, about twenty tabs open in each of the search engines she skimmed through. “I don’t wanna come off as sounding naïve, but he seemed genuine,” she said. “Anyway, he didn’t really mention anything about Lew. Just gave us the fetch quest and wished us a good luck.” Vivi pause and placed her elbows to the table top and entwined her fingers together, and set her chin on the bridge her knuckles formed. “I don’t think he was from the plant. He had a nondescript following him, same color as him; like with Lew and his deadbeats.”

Arthur cut his sausages with his fork, while picking up a chicken tender from the appetizer plate set between their individuals plates. The chicken tender disappeared under the table, and Arthur selected another one in the same fashion, jaws clacking below. “A suicide may not be impossible to look up,” Arthur says, and another chicken tender goes under the table while he pokes at a sausage with his fork, “but it may be well hidden unless we look for some more specific details. A date, a time? There would have to be an unrelated article somewhere.”

“I keep trying the factories name,” Vivi says. More tabs in the search engine, a few others closed. She sips at her warm tea and sighs. “Maybe I’m trying to be too specific. Er… damn?”

“Freeze up again?” Arthur’s question was answered, as Vivi hefted up the laptop and passed it over the table to him. “Hold up a sec. You got Firefox opened too?” He pushed his half eaten plate away and set the laptop down. “It sucks when you got Chrome open.” Arthur yelped when a loud snarl came from under the table, followed by a clank. “I wasn’t talking to you!”

“Forgot I was using it,” Vivi says, as apology. She fumbles with a piece of bacon on her plate and looks out the large window beside them. “‘The one you should be looking for,’” she repeats.

__

“He’s hiding from you.”

Lewis had moved to stand between Vivi and the other when its voice found them, but Vivi had gently nudged him aside and raised her camera to get a picture. She never took her eyes off the gloomy figure, maybe as tall as Lewis, standing on the first step of a set of cement stairs leading to a higher level of the factory. The voice had a thick grating, as if the bearer was older in life, if not in death.

The condemned welding plant had been shut down for years, following its closure. The drums and machinery left behind emit a heavy vapor of rust, traces of seeping propane and oil fumes filled the air with a thick tar. The only light source came from a flashlight Vivi carried, and what moonlight drips down from the large thick shutters high above in the ceiling.

“Who… do you think we should be looking for?” Lewis asked. He looked over as Vivi checked the view screen of the camera, and showed him the figure carefully hidden by dark folds of shadows and grease. But Lewis could make out dissimilar features, a bald head, bright eyes gleaming, and a dark suit. The figure looked human, but for its eyes.

“I don’t come here often,” said the other. He watched Vivi carefully. “The others, they remain. I know none of them.”

Vivi waited. She noted a shape huddled on the steps somewhere above the other spirit, a dull glow emitting from its chest which had a coloration that matched the heart of the spirit whom addressed them. It was too cold to be standing around, the factory absorbed the heat and expelled icy drafts that clung to bones. “So this guy, you wouldn’t know his name?” she says. “He’s a he? Right?”

The spirit crackled, his voice hollow but it failed to echo around them. “I sometimes come around here. After the place was shut down, but even then that was a long time ago.” A strange sound came from him, a rattle or crinkle, and the nondescript shadow on the steps faded. “But you’re here, you must be looking for him.”

“If you say so?” Lewis said, unsure himself. “We’re just paranormal investigators, trying to catch some evidence of unusual occurrences. Namely, spooks.”

“I see,” the other said. “Then I’m right. You should be looking for him, and he is hiding from you.”

Vivi pulled her backpack around and slipped the camera into a side pocket. “I hope you don’t tell us we’re wasting our time, wandering around here,” Vivi says. She adjusts the straps on her shoulders and thumbs at the walkie-talkie in her hand. “Because we have ways to draw out the shy ones.”

The eyes of the other spirit brightened. “You do?” he said, and glanced away for a moment. “It would help if you had a unique item of his?”

Vivi took a step toward the steps, and the spirit snapped his gaze back on her. “Immensely. Is there something in this factory he favored, or owned?”

“No, not here, I don’t think,” the spirit said. Above him, the lingering nondescript reappeared, nearly missed in the gloom as it drifted down to its companion. “I know a few very interesting details that will help you, should you want to speak with him.”

 

Vivi jarred. She heard Arthur’s voice in her ear and tried to answer him on the walkie-talkie. She blinked, her heavy eyelids struggling to stay down as she drew her face back from the table’s surface.

Arthur winced and withdrew his hand from her shoulder. “Sorry,” he said, and held up the laptop in his good arm. “I fixed it, but you looked really beat.”

“So why’d you wake me?” Vivi pulled her back upright, and fixed the magenta glasses on the bridge of her nose. She looked to where Arthur was pointing to the plates, dangerously near the edge of the table.

“You are such a restless sleeper.” Arthur set the laptop down in the space before her, and pulled the top screen open. “I had to go back and retrieve a bunch of your browsing history, but I don’t think you’ve checked this link yet?” His metal arm reached around the screens side and indicated one of the non-highlighted links.

As Arthur pulled back the plates from the edge of Sparta, Vivi clicked on the link. “It didn’t have a lot of visits, so I just forgot about it.” A shabby and self-made webpage appeared, the font very simple and all of the simplicity of the site gave off the strong vibe of do-it-yourself-or-don’t. The links did work, the list included Home page, Town history, Images, and a few others. Vivi selected Businesses. She took a scoop of her eggs as she read down the page, a long list of shops, farmers, and one page for the welding factory they had visited. “Okay, fingers crossed,” she announced, as she clicked the link. She took her last piece of bacon and passed it under the table.

“Remember,” Arthur says, chewing on a buttered biscuit. He shifted his food into his cheek like Galahad would, before he went on, “Even little things can be enlightening.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivi muttered. “I always check. Last on my list though.” She read through the numerous articles, more history, she picked some of the dates and historical value of the old factory. “Yes! Got it!” She spun the laptop around, nearly knocking Arthur’s coffee over as she pushed the computer toward him. “Name. Got a name.”

Arthur rescued his coffee, and took another sip as his eyes wandered to the page. “Local man commits suicide? You sure that’s the one?” he asked. Suicides weren’t uncommon, said to say. Arthur didn’t like the topic far less than others.

Vivi ordered another tea, before she leaned over to the computer. “This one’s it because he worked at the factory. I know it doesn’t say it there – like you said they don’t tell people about these things, but he worked at the factory, and he killed himself there. It’s him.” She spun the computer back around and stooped over, to the wall under the window where her backpack rested. “Some of his family still resides in the city.”

“No, you’re not getting my sausage,” Arthur said, under the table. He scooted his plate from the edge, and gave a cough. “Yeah, about messaging between family and the deceased,” he grumbled. “I hate that!”

“They’re not direct relatives,” Vivi says, struggling to keep her voice low. “Descendants. We’ll tell them we’re curious about some… bogus family history. That ghost said—”

“That ghost was a complete dick!” Arthur sighed and rubbed his face as he sat back. The booth seat was so uncomfortable, but after a night of walking around in that drafty factory… no, he still hated the hard cold seat. “We’re going on a fetch quest, why?”

“Because the ghost we want committed suicide. And he was hiding from us,” Vivi says. She smiles sweetly to the waiter when he brought more hot water and a new teabag. “I want to know why he’s hiding from us.”

“Have you seen Lewis lately?” Arthur mumbled, looking into his empty coffee mug. “He’s hard to miss. Fucking scary too.” He said that last part under his breath.

“Where is Lewis by the way?” Vivi had two windows on the laptop open, just like her days attending college and writing book reports. One window was a phonebook with names and addresses, the other tab was left open for the history of the welding factory.

“Went for a walk,” Arthur said. He finished off his sausages and poked at his hash browns with his fork. “I think.” He thanked the waiter as more coffee came his way. “You think he’s jealous you were talking to another ghost?”

Vivi put her sleeve to her lips as she giggled. “No,” she says. “He better not be.” Arthur smirked and gave a light snicker. “Do you think he gets hungry? Or, maybe he’s around food he gets hungry? Like, does he even smell?”

“Not bad?” Arthur said. He chewed on some of his hash browns, and winced when Vivi tried to pop him on his good shoulder. “Hey! These are tasty, and I’m not done,” he growled. “No-no. No potatoes for you Mystery.”

“What about eating?” Vivi continues. She watches as Arthur picks up his mug of coffee and lifts it to his lips. “Do you think he could….? Never mind.” She looks away and presses her lips together.

“Huh?” Arthur says. And takes a sip.

“I was just thinking about Casper.” She had his reaction pegged to a dime. Arthur snorted and began coughing. “Sorry.”

“My good pants!” Arthur snarled, as he went for the napkins and began blotting up the black mess now all over his plate and the table. “Just got them from home!”

“That was pretty good,” Vivi says.

“Yeah, it was,” Arthur grumbled. He took the half glass of water and poured some water onto his pants. “I’m up to get you next. The scores…. Eh, three and two. I’m still winning.”

“I still say pointing out Lewis is shaped like a Dorito doesn’t count,” Vivi says. She cut off a piece of her egg and ate it, then went back to scrolling and writing. “Only because it is true, and that’s a foul.”

“You still laughed, and that’s what counts,” he said. Arthur’s pants weren’t stained too bad, a few drops that the water had diluted enough.

“I feel bad about it though,” Vivi said. She took a few more sips of her tea and finished off her eggs, then took the remainder of Arthur’s biscuit.

“I don’t think it bothered him that much,” Arthur says, as he scoots the tatters of potato remains around on his plate. “He’ll just never look at a Dorito the same way. No loss.”

“No, I mean—” Vivi stopped and stared at Arthur for a moment. Recognition of who he was and their topic source hitting her hard. She took a breath and sipped at her tea a little more. “You eat a lot of Doritos.”

“Doritos, Pop Rocks, and Energy drinks,” Arthur pipes. “Anything to keep me running when the headlamps are blazing.” He looks under the table. “Mystery, are you seriously licking the floor. Gross.” He stops the waiter and gets a fresh mug of coffee, before slipping it under the table. “Careful, it’s hot. Want sugar?” There’s a bark. “One or two?” Three barks. “Humming bird.”

Vivi paused in writing to watch Arthur and smirked. “When he’s bouncing off the walls, I’ll remember this,” she warns.

“Lew can handle him.” Arthur’s smirk faded. He put some creamer into his own coffee and sipped. “And the case?”

“Right,” Vivi took a breath. She scrolled up reading through the historical document. “No mention of the death, though there were a lot of accidents reported. Then, the former owner passed away. Hmm.” She scanned through the font. “‘Faulty equipment… Inability to acquire new equipment following The Stock Market crash of twenty-nine.’ Rough stuff.”

“A lot of businesses went bankrupt,” Arthur said. “A lot of the owners couldn’t deal with it. Does it say how the factory owner died?”

Vivi took a moment to write a few more notes in her notebook, before she answered, “It just says natural causes.” She finishes copying down the addresses and sketches out a quick map on the next page. “There’s not too many, most our time will probably be spent driving around until we find the right relations. That’s IF the spirit was being honest.” 

“I should hang back with the van, while you guys go harass people in their homes,” Arthur says. He reaches under the table and brings back up the empty coffee mug. “That way when you guys get arrested for trespassing, I can bail you out.” 

“It won’t come to that,” Vivi said. She turned to look out the window and noticed the sun had risen higher above the distant rooftops during breakfast. “As long as they’re not weirded about random strangers visiting out of the blue.” 

Arthur says, “Pot. Kettle. Black.” Vivi throws a crumpled up napkin at him, which Arthur catches and sets aside. 

“I’ll go see if I can find Lewis,” Vivi says, as she tucks the beaten up spiral notebook into her backpack. She takes up the half eaten biscuit and finishes it off. “Want anything else?”

“I’m good.” Arthur scoots over as Mystery clambers up, claws scratching at the plastic seat. Arthur reaches over the table and pulls the laptop around and shuffles some of the plates and begins organizing the mess on the table. “Here’s the keys,” he says, and holds up the ring with the boo charm on it. “In case.” He doesn’t let go of the keys when Vivi grabs them, and only looks up at her from under his thick eyebrows.

“He can’t just keep running away from us,” Vivi murmurs. Arthur doesn’t comment, but releases the keys. Vivi grabs her backpack and slings it over her shoulder as she walks off. She looks to the other side of the diner, toward the half that is gift curious and jewelry but with Lewis stature it should be impossible to miss him. There was clothing and coats at the furthest back, but she could still see the wood panels of the stores rustic backside.

At the counter within the midpoint of the diner, across from the glass door entrance, Vivi gives pause and waits for the cashier to finish with her customers. When the family disperses around Vivi, she steps forward to the cashier. “How was your meal?” the darker woman asks and smiles.

Vivi returns the gesture, her eyes still scanning behind the cashier should Lewis materialize (literally) out of nowhere. “Splendiful, thank you. Hey listen, I’m wondering if you’d see my friend lingering around here?” she says. “Grizzly-tall guy, poof hair, purple sweater.” The woman begins to shake her head and frowns a bit. “He’s wearing these big, dorky ass sunglasses.”

“Oh! Yeah,” the cashier said, with a grin. She motions over her shoulder with her thumb. “Guys in the back doing dishes.”

Vivi scowls. “WHAT?”

Lewis is in the back doing dishes. 

For everything of him he couldn’t remember the last time he had done dishes. Probably when he was still working for his family at Peppers Paradise, either cooking or doing the dishes. Sometimes he preferred doing one over the other. If he was feeling invigorated and playful he had the urge to create, to bring simple ingredients together into zesty splendor; sometimes experimenting with the ingredients of the dishes his mother and father had spent years mastering. Some free reign ambition was good, other times… well, Lewis and friends didn’t mind eating his creations.

Dishes were simple, dishes were autopilot. He’d been doing dishwashing so long he didn’t need to think, he could let his mind wander off. Go back a few years, reunite with simpler times though they may be lost. 

Water gushed, steam hissed. Lewis scrubbed at the rock like crust of black, scouring the inside of pots forgotten too long on the stove with the hard scrubber. If the task was impossible he’d fill the dish with hot water and some degreaser, then leave it be moment while he slid off. The floor was slick enough he could get away with it, as he’d seen another kitchen aid skidding by on his own black heels a moment before. Luckily, everyone’s eyes were elsewhere or they might’ve caught the hot pink sparks leaving scorch marks on the tile.

He moved further down the sink line, to the smaller pots and sauce pans in the deep basin. An apron was tied to his front over his sweater, the sweater sleeves rolled up his forearms, and a pair of thick gloves were pulled up to wrap snug over the bundled ends. He turned the heavy tap on and let water cascade into the deep sink and put a dab of the degreaser in, he skids over and put a little more in the large pot for good measure and skid back. He took the rag and scrapped off the stains of food, scrubbed the pot clean and rinsed it then slid it down the stainless steel ramp to the next kitchen aid drying off the pots for the cooks.

The water practically boiled around his arms, but it was hard to tell with the thick suds. He raises up an aggravating knife with a stubborn crust of something on it, and examined the sharp blade as it glint under the harsh phosphorus light.

“Knife coming down,” Lewis called, and slid the blade towards the dryer. Soon there were stacks of plates, mugs, plastic cups rolling down the glistening wet ramp.

“Give me a sec, Lew,” the dryer called. The dryer finished buffing two plates and set them into wire rimmed slots in a cart at his back. While on pause, Lewis let the water drain out and rinsed the deep sink. 

“We’re short on pots.” One of the cooks, dressed in a white uniform, approached Lewis. “I’ll dry’em, don’t worry about it.” The chef adjusted a towel laid over his forearm.

“How many? What kind?” Lewis was already pulling a few of the smaller pots from the stack and dunked them into the steaming bubbles.

“Two,” the cook answered. “Lids too. And three ladles.” He rubbed at his brow with the inner side of his shoulder as Lewis scrubbed and rinsed. He held open the towel as Lewis handed over the pots, plus lids, and spoons. 

“Got them?” Lewis asked, as he stuck the ladles into the pots open top.

“Yep, thanks,” the chef said. He began pawing at the dishes between the towels. “Whoo. Hot, hot. These are scalding. Don’t your hands burn?”

Lewis shrugged as he turned back to the deep sink. “Nope,” he chimes. “I’ll turn the taps temp down, though.” He freezes when the door across from him sweeps open and in charges Vivi.

“Lew—” Vivi’s words cut off when the sunglasses drop off his face and hit the floor, one of the lens pops out and skips up under one of the stainless steel counters. “Oh shit!” Vivi fidgets around as if trying to pick up a wild, spewing bottle of soda but uncertain how to do this feat without getting her clothing all wet and stained.

“I’m sorry, blueberry,” Lewis begins, holding up his slick gloved hands. “You were eating, and I was going to—” He emits a brief but loud shriek, when Vivi jerks him down by the collar of his suit. The lights in the kitchen flicker and dim causing the nearest of the kitchen aids to pause and look up, after a short sputter the lights brighten without problem. “What? What now?” Lewis stares as Vivi jerks her sweater off over her head. Underneath the sweater Vivi always wore a darker blue T-shirt that matched her skirt, but she preferred the extra comfort of the sweater. Lewis doesn’t get out another sound before Vivi shoves the puffy sweater down over his face and she begins shoving him toward the swinging doors.

“Your face, Lew. Your face,” Vivi hisses into his back.

“Ah.” Lewis puts his hands up and pushes the doors away as he’s herded out. A voice calls from the side, and he detects a presence hurry at them.

“I’m very sorry,” Vivi says around Lewis shoulder, her voice strained. She pauses in the entry of the swinging doors as the taller man stares at them from the kitchens interior, between her and Lewis but mostly at Lewis with the sweater sagged around his face. “He’s got… a bad nose bleed,” Vivi said, and kept going with the evasion, nodding. “He gets them sometimes. I gotta get him outside, get him some fresh air.”

“O… kay,” the older man said, staring with confusion. Lewis thought he sounded like a compact version of his father. “I’ll just need the gloves back, and the apron. Also, I wanted to let you know we took some of your bill off, since he was doing the dishes. It’s only fair.” He nods.

“Right, um, thank you.” Vivi pulls on Lewis sleeves and turns him away from – who she suspects could be the manager, or assistant manager. Vivi slips off the rubber gloves and pulls the damp sweater down over Lewis’ suit. She tugs at the apron, until Vivi finds the one cord at Lewis’ back that undoes the elegant little tight knot. Vivi slaps Lewis hands away when he tries to help take off the apron, and instead he leans forward to allow Vivi the range to pull the aprons loop off from over his sweater garbed head. Lewis doesn’t realize how fortunate he is that Vivi’s hands are full, otherwise she’d punch him. “Really, thank you. I’m so sorry about this.”

The kitchen aid waves her off. “It’s no prob, nose bleeds suck,” he says, taking the gloves and apron. “He’s really good at this gig. I hope you’ll come by again before you head out.”

“Yes! Most def. C’mon Lew, let’s get you some napkins.” Vivi pulls Lewis by his cuffs, guiding him out into the main interior of gift store. She guides him around the few aisles and finds the little exercise is much easier than what it would be, if Lewis was just any other person. The cashier watches them from the counter island in the center of the store, but says nothing as Vivi guides Lewis towards towards the glass doors of the restaurants entrance. 

People are still coming in, and too many stop to stare as she hauls Lewis out. Vivi turns to the diner’s interior, scanning along the many large windows that face the parking lot and catches Arthur’s gaze as he looks up from the laptop in front of him. Seated beside Arthur, Mystery catches his movement and looks up as well. Arthur slants his eyes and makes a vague gesture with his good arm, twirling his hand at the wrist. Vivi frowns and shakes her head, she gestures back with a sort of cutting motion and points out the door. She has only a slight hint to what Arthur had signed, but he probably already gathered up the sum of what occurred in the kitchen.

It took a little longer than it normally would for Lewis to get his bearings together and pull on his Alive appearance. Vivi had waited outside the doors of the van, as he sat in the back soundless and weightless. For the duration Vivi would watch people walk by on the sidewalk across the parking lot. The van was parked with its back facing the crumbling old wall of the restaurants side, and she felt confident no one would get close enough to the front of the van to make out the curious movement within through the large windshield.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she began, when she heard Lewis creep out onto the back bumper. It was tricky to tell, but she was getting accustomed to his airless movements. “I panicked, but I guess I shouldn’t have. You have to be more careful, though.” She turned to the open door where Lewis now stood, dark eyes with the bright glimmer in their depths staring at her dubiously. “You gotta work on not getting surprised when something random happens, or work on recovering faster.”

Lewis sort of frowned, his nose wrinkling in a way that seemed natural. “It’s not as easy as I’m making it out to be, y’know,” he says. “It’s not like there’s a little switch in me and when I feel like it, I flip it and change the way I look.”

Vivi sighed. “I know. I’m scared, that’s all. But I’m not sure how—” She stopped and looked away as if something had caught her attention. “I worry about you,” Vivi says. “I worry about you, and I don’t want to worry about something taking you from us.”

“Mi arandano,” Lewis hummed. He stepped over to Vivi and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “I think I’m far beyond that threshold of being taken by someone else.”

Vivi kept silent for a moment, her arms curled up and pressed back into Lewis’ sleeves. She listened to the distance traffic on the roads, and somewhere else the muffled patter of the locket Lewis carried. A frail breeze crooned over the hard concrete and Vivi took a deep breath, taking in the thick scent of the earthy weeds growing between the cracks in the cement along the road, and the old oil baking on the asphalt. There was… an unfamiliar scent to her long travels, something foreign to the countless roads and parking lots she had visited throughout the states. The aroma was somewhat sweet and fresh, like after shower rains in a forest. Or is it more electrical, like a thunderstorm charging across the untamed plains of the open desert? She takes a tentative breath. It was so pleasant and out of place, under the rash bake of the warm sun on cool pavement. She leaned over and sniffed at Lewis sleeve. That was it. It was Lewis.

“What kind of soap were you using?” Vivi asked, as she pressed her nose into his sweater. “On the dishes?”

Lewis looked away from a family that was walking by on the nearby sidewalk, towards the restaurants front. “Just the usual industrial lemony-antibacterial stuff,” he said, distracted. “I never really noticed it, I guess.” He glanced over as the family entered through the glass doors.

“Hmm.” Vivi could remember Lewis just drenched in the stuff from long hours in kitchen, on the late evening when he was washing the endless cycle of dishes that lay siege on the kitchen. That was his smell when they were younger and while they were home, and she grew to like it. That was not what he smelled like now. But this was nice, whatever it was. Vivi took one last deep breath of his sweater. “You smell really nice,” she said, and stepped away from him.

Lewis stood there, arms open. “Thanks?”

Vivi made her way around back to the front doors of the diner. “I have to pay the bill,” she called back. “And I’ll get you some new glasses from the gift shop.”

“Make sure they’re fashionable,” he hails after her. “And purple!”


	7. Chapter 7

##### 

Accidents come Knock

Following up the exploration of one haunted factory, Mystery Skulls went thereafter to an all-night pharmaceutical and convenience store to procure two items of necessity. Thus armed with items, a phrase, and the wavering knowledge of historical events, they set off. Most the family names were at opposing ends of the town and much of the time was spent navigating the odd twisted streets of the neighborhoods, getting lost and reevaluating their specific location before arriving at the intended destination. Then, when Vivi delivered the phrase, she was met by an odd look or curious question before the owner of the home politely asked them to leave.

“At least no one’s yelled at us,” Arthur concluded, as they walked back to the van. He took the path around to the driver’s side and found Mystery on his seat waiting when he opened the door. “I’m not kidding, I would have just say we quit if we ran into that sort of trouble.”

Vivi stepped back as Lewis opened the door for her. She deposited the stack of items on the dashboard and climbed into the middle seat. Mystery plopped into her lap, forcing her to peer over the dogs head to see out windshield. “I think the ‘condolence’ thing kinda disarms people,” she says, as her hands move up to play with Mystery’s ears. “It’s a strong word, so people don’t want to just get upset if we’re only around to give best wishes or something.” Lewis climbed in and slammed the passenger door. “Two more addresses.”

“Then what?” Lewis asked. He shifts to the side as Mystery spun in place, and crawled up over the bench seat into the back of the van. “KitKat’s and coffee beans. Wanna just return them? Will the store even take them back food stuffs?”

Arthur paused when he was about to start the engine, when leaned over to see beyond Vivi, and gave Lewis a serious and flat stare. “I’d like to eat the KitKat’s,” he says, softly. Lewis scowled behind the sunglasses, and Arthur slumped back in his seat and turned the key in the ignition.

It was three packages of KitKat’s and a bag of whole coffee beans that Vivi held as Arthur rang the buzzer of the next house. It was a modern home, walls fitted with shingles of dark brown with pale caramel trim. The porch looked even newer, the boards sealed with clear polish risen and decorated with a few plants and some metal lawn chairs. The group looked around examining the under ceiling of the porch and the screen door.

“I swear I won’t blame the family if they call the cops,” Arthur muttered. Lewis reached over to smack his good shoulder, but missed as Arthur shuffled further beside Vivi.

“We come bearing gifts,” Vivi retorts. “No one ever looks a gift horse in the mouth.”

Lewis frowned. “Uh, Vi—” He stopped when the door behind the dark screen opens.

Vivi perks up at the woman standing there. The woman was a few inches taller than her, and had lime green hair, she wore denim coveralls that come down into a skirt. “Uh, hello,” Vivi began. 

The woman stares, taken by the odd collection of company. “Yes? How can I help you?”

Vivi takes a breath and holds up the KitKat’s and the bag of coffee beans, and raises her thin brows. “Dewalt sends his condolences.”

An expression crosses the woman’s face, puzzlement intermixed with shock. She stares at the three distrustfully before swinging the door shut.

“Welp, I’m done,” Arthur snaps, as he pivots. He swings his arms over his head as he moves towards the steps. “This was a complete waste of— I told you this was a complete waste of time. Nobody ever listens to me.” He gags when Lewis grabs him by the back of his vest.

“We do listen,” says Lewis. “Just not when you’re being ridiculous.” He pulls his arm back when Arthur slips out of his vest to stagger down the porch steps.

Vivi holds the items close to her chest as she turns away from the door to look at the two. “Would you both stop fighting?” she said.

“We’re not fighting,” Lewis responds, and throws Arthur’s vest down to him. Lewis glares down at Arthur, and beckons him back with a finger. Arthur grimaces and shakes his head, then points at a space beside Lewis. Lewis jerks around, only to find Vivi very close behind him with her face tightened into a vicious glower. Startled, Lewis teeters backwards off the steps but regains his senses enough to adjust himself in midair and glides backwards to the sidewalk path where Arthur had been standing. Once settled on the solid ground, Lewis glances around for Arthur.

“One more address,” Vivi said, as she descends the steps. “If it’s another dud, maybe we can just go back to the factory tonight and find that ghost. Ask him what’s up?” Vivi turns away from Lewis when she hears the screen door open, and the woman is standing at the porch landing above.

“I just called my husband,” she says.

Lewis holds up his hands in defense of the accusation. “Ma’am, please,” he said, a little gruff. “We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, we’re leaving now.”

“No,” she says, and begins down the porch steps slowly and looks to Vivi. “You’re not in any trouble, but my husband would like to speak with you.” She looks to the items Vivi holds, and Vivi lifts them to the woman, who only stares without accepting them. “I think… someone from his mother’s side of the family knew a Dewalt. I’m not sure, but the name is familiar. He’ll be home in a few minutes, if you care to sit inside and wait?”

“Um, yes,” Vivi said. “If that’s all right? Wait, hold on.” She shoves the objects into Lewis chest and takes off down the sidewalk. “Arthur! Hold on! We’re not under arrest!”

Lewis winced as he fixed his grip on the coffee bag, then turned back to the lady introducing himself. “I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable,” he said, and used the back of one hand to straighten his sunglasses. “Well, we were asked to do this as a favor, but our client wasn’t very thorough with the directions.”

The woman introduced herself as Paula. “It doesn’t seem fair to get upset at you three,” Paula says. When Vivi returns with Arthur, further introductions are made before Paula invites them into her house. She leads them down a short hall and into a small living room, furnished with a love seat and three armchairs. At the furthest side of the room is a television, and on the rug before it lie two children watching explosive and colorful cartoons. “Kids,” Paula said, as she turns off the telly. The children groan, the girl takes note of the three visitors standing at the threshold of the living room. “Take yourselves outside for a bit.”

“Can we stay?” the boy asked, pouting at his mom. He never once looked up.

“No,” Paula said, and spins him away. “Look after your sister.” She pushes him away gently, and he takes his sisters hand before leaving the room. Paula turns to her guests and motions the sofa, “Please,” she says, “have a seat. I’ll get you some refreshments.” Paula departs the room through a doorway, opposite of the television.

Lewis stacks the KitKat’s on an end table and sets the coffee bean bag atop it. Vivi elects to sit on the sofa, and Lewis moves to take up the space beside her. He looks over the walls, and the few pictures that are framed. Some family photos, elderly people, a birthday party with a cake and a bright banner. He looks to his knee when he detects faint warmth and sees Vivi’s hand set on his gloved hand, his hand clenched into a fist. He opens his hand and looks away, only half taking in the scenery and warm decor of the room.

“You okay?” Vivi asks. She peers over her magenta glasses at Lewis, and grips his hand a little tighter when he doesn’t look at her. “Lew?”

A soft echo of sorts comes from Lewis, before he says, “Yes. I’m fine.” He glances at Vivi, then looks back at the furniture and the pale crème walls. “We’ve just been running around, and not a lot of pauses in between.” Lewis looks at his hand as Vivi slips her fingers around his palm.

“Do you need to step out?” Vivi asks. Her allusion was practically spelled out.

Lewis shakes his head. “No. I’m good.” He looks over and catches Arthur watching from the furthest armchair. When Arthur looks up at him, Arthur looks away and finds interest in the soft carpet.

After a few minutes of silence – aside from the rustling in the kitchen area of the home – Paula returns with a white plate topped with cookies, and a pitcher of red punch along with three glasses stacked and gripped in the pitcher hand. “I don’t do a lot of baking,” Paula admits, with a smirk. She sets the plate on the glass coffee table and pours punch into the glasses. “My grandmother did though. Wish my mom taught me.”

Arthur took the glass in his good hand and picked out a cookie with his metal arm. He caught Paula’s eyes momentarily take in his movement, but she discretely distracted herself with handing Vivi a glass of punch. “No one can say no to cookies,” Arthur says. “But I agree, nothing beats fresh baking.”

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Vivi says. She sips at the punch and picks out one of the cookies on the plate. She realizes she doesn’t have much direction with the conversation, since she began to lose hope after the first two families they bothered about this matter. She paused briefly. “The punch is really good.”

Lewis frowned at her. “Smooth Vivi. Smooth,” he hummed. He received a hard jab to his side and Vivi tensed, stunned when she managed to jam her elbow right into his rib hidden under the sweater. “We were a little curious about the KitKat’s, and coffee beans,” Lewis began, covering up Vivi’s soft groan.

Paula sat in one of the armchairs and pressed her hands together. “I know very little of that subject,” she admits. Her thumbs fiddle around as she ponders. “I took the name Owen when I married.” She stopped and listened, as the distinct creak of the door echoed into the living area. “That’s him now.” Paula stood up as Mr. Owen walked in – he was dressed in a tan collared shirt and slacks, his overcoat was draped over his arm. “Hey hon,” she said to the newcomer.

“Hey,” Mr. Owen says slowly, looking over the Mystery Skulls seated in the living room. “Dewalt sends his condolences?” he said, tentatively. 

Vivi nods. “Who is… Dewalt?”

Mr. Owen shakes his head as he crosses the room. He gives Paula a quick peck on the lips. “I don’t get a cup?” he mumbled.

“You just got home,” Paula said. “Take a moment to breathe.” She turns and walks back over to the kitchen area.

“Sorry,” Mr. Owen said, when Paula was gone. He moved to the armchair his wife had been seated. “My family doesn’t like to talk about it much. By the way, I’m Rory.” He sets his overcoat across the back of the armchair his wife had been sitting in prior to his arrival, and takes a moment to shake hands with each member of the Mystery Skulls before he sits back in the armchair where his coat was left. Rory eyes the cookies longingly but they are too far from where he is seated. Vivi pushes the plate over to him, once Arthur managed to sneak two more off. “I think my granddad said Dewalt was an old friend of the family. Whoever he was, he’s long gone now.”

Vivi tilts her head towards him. “I don’t really know what to say about that,” she admits, and rubs at her sore elbow. “But somebody told us about this suicide, at this old factory. I’m not certain how the KitKat’s and coffee beans fit into it.” She jerks beside Lewis when Rory chortles.

“A favorite story of the family,” Rory says. “I kind of got into it when I was in high school, but it wrecks your sleep cycle.”

Arthur cocks his brow, before biting into a cookie. “You eat them? The coffee beans?” he asks, doubtful.

“Yeah,” Rory confirms. “Together. It’s kind of good.” He raises his none cookie hand to pinch the space between his eyes. “So, what are you doing here? There was a suicide in the factory, I have that. Did you look up which factory it was around these parts?”

Vivi glanced up to Lewis, then back to Rory. “A welding plant, yes,” she said. “We were doing some research and we’re trying to find out who committed suicide in the plant.”

Rory glared over at her. “You have a fucked up and weird way of doing research,” he snapped. Rory turned his gaze and looked at the stack of KitKat’s and coffee beans, his fingers spun the cookie in his hand slowly. The faint sounds of child laughter came from elsewhere, through the walls of the home. “Fritz Owen,” Rory said. He looked at the group when they remained silent. “Fritz Owen. That was his name. My family didn’t like to talk about it much, I barely tell my wife about him at all. I guess we sort of disowned him, though we paid for his funeral and everything. He wasn’t buried in the family plot, though.” He took a bit from the cookie. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“He had something?” Vivi began, again glancing to Lewis. “And you still own it. We’d like to buy it off you, if possible.”

Rory finished his cookie, then sat back up in the armchair and stared at Vivi. “Are you serious?” he didn’t sound mad, more confused and startled. “Why?”

“We’re ghost hunters,” Arthur says. He leans to his good side and looks at the carpet, because Vivi had that look in her eyes that promised pain and death. “Basically, my friends met up with a ghost that sent us on this weird fetch quest so we can have this séance – get this, it works better if you have a possession of the deceased. So he gave us this creepypasta style grocery list to follow, with the promise that you— you would— Vivi, Please!” Arthur pressed back into the armchair, arms over his head as if he expected retribution from Vivi.

“Do you know you ramble when you’re nervous?” Vivi said, nearly growled it. She stood up to glare over Lewis head towards Arthur, her own fists clenched. “I love you to pieces Arthur, but Shut. UP.” 

“Okay-okay.” Arthur nods, and shakes his head behind his arms, switching between rapid head movements as he withers under Vivi’s glower. Rory stares in silence, glancing between the two and sharing a look of bafflement with Lewis. Eventually, Arthur calms down and Vivi resumes her seat. “I won’t say anything else,” Arthur mumbles. “Nothing on the subject.” Vivi hisses at him to hush, but Vivi’s voice is gentler this time. Lewis decides he doesn’t really want to watch Arthur curled up in the chair sulking. “But can we have that thing,” Arthur asks. He works to speak, his voice fading a few times before he says, “We brought KitKat’s and coffee beans.”

Rory himself isn’t sure what to say. Thankfully, Paula returned with a cup. “You didn’t want any?” Rory asked, as he poured himself a glass. “Okay, given that there’s a whole national following of ‘ghost hunters,’ and TV shows, I can… I can accept that.” He looked over at the side table, and the candy and coffee bag. “And I’ll accept that you didn’t find some obscure tidbit of my family’s history online, so you could come by and harass us.” He looked at Arthur, then back to the side table and seemed to withdraw for a moment. Paula leaned over in her armchair about to speak, when Rory went on, voice low. “A lot of people… were hurt in that factory. Some killed.”

Arthur pulled at the wrist band on his metal arm and felt his fingers along the polished seams of the cold metal. “What really happened to Fritz?” he asked.

Rory said nothing, but he did reach over to tear open the bag of coffee beans and took out a few, then opened one of the KitKat’s. The coffee beans crunch was audible between his teeth, only muffled by the chocolate coated wafers. “The equipment was in bad shape,” he said, after swallowing. “Something with the tanks and the gas. A small leak. They call it flash burn, though it’s more of a small explosion. It burnt out Fritz’s retinas, and he was half deaf after he ‘recovered.’” Rory quoted with his fingers, one hand wrapped around the glass he held. “‘Never the same,’ they said. It’s funny. How families say that, when there’s been some sort of catastrophe.” Rory shifted in his seat, agitated, and has a bitter smirk on his lips. “How does anyone expect things to be the same, after you’ve had an accident? How? How does that work? Do you know?” Arthur looked up as Rory pointed to him. “That’s what I thought.”

Paula watched her husband take another piece of KitKat and some coffee beans. “I think it’s time for you three to leave,” she suggests.

“No. No.” Rory shakes his head as he looks to Paula. “My… granddad, passed away a few months back,” he says. “We were close.”

Vivi turns her eyes down to the plate of cookies, working out the small timeline forming. She blinked, remembering the build of the other spirit from the steps of the factory. It wasn’t too farfetched, but she wouldn’t say a word.

“My great granddad never knew his father. That would be Fritz,” Rory continues. “If it matters, he managed to do it in the office of his employer. He was mad at the factory. Ma that they wouldn’t compensate, and back in those days there weren’t a lot of programs to help with accidents or labor issues.” Rory’s voice nearly whispered, barely audible as he went on. “Wetry and speculate how he managed to do it. He was always resourceful, I guess.”

Lewis looked to the plate of cookies on the coffee table. “The idiot,” he hissed. Though not low enough that Rory couldn’t hear. 

“I don’t think he envisioned much of a future for himself,” Rory said. “He couldn’t make money blind and nearly deaf, and… he had another baby on the way.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But before the accident, he was a good man, always there for his family. If he just… didn’t work in that factory. That’s what they always said.” Rory looks over towards the kitchen and smiles. “Hey Jamie. C’mere.”

The little girl, Jamie, stepped out from the kitchen area and skipped over to her father. “The Frisbee went on the roof again,” she said, flopping over Rory’s knees.

“I’ll get it down later,” Rory said, and sips at his punch. “You know that tin I gave you?”

“My tin?” Jamie asked, looking up into his eyes. “It’s mine.”

“I’ll just need it for a bit,” Rory said. “Go get it and you can have some cookies.” 

Lewis smirked as the child tore off back to the kitchen area. In short time, she comes racing back with a tarnished square box in her hands. When she tries to present it to her father, he shakes his head and directs her to the group.

“You think ol’ Fritz haunts the factory?” Rory asks. Jamie shakes her head and backs away from the group, but Rory takes her by the shoulders.

“We only have a strong belief he may be there,” Vivi admits. “If he’s still there and he can’t move on, we’d like to try and contact him, help him to rest.” Vivi shrugs and watches as Rory tries to coax the box out of Jamie’s hands. “It’s kind of what we do.”

“Is this your job?” Rory asks, as holds his daughter from running off. “Go into old buildings, take pictures of shadows and record voices?”

“More of less,” Vivi says. Lewis makes an odd raspy crackle sound, but Rory and Jamie don’t seem to notice through their haggling over the tin. “We’ll try and bring it back, I understand you must cherish it.”

“I wouldn’t say cherish,” Rory says. “It’s not worth anything, I checked. But they don’t make this kind anymore.” He leans far over so he could look into Jamie’s face when she tilts her head down to pout. “Come on sweetheart, they said they’ll bring it back. Then, you can have the rest of the cookies.” 

Jamie looks from the plate on the coffee table and the remaining cookies, then turns her attention to Vivi. “You have to promise,” Jamie said. “This is really old and I’m responsible for it.”

Lewis leans over to the girl, and tries not to look over his sunglasses as he made his expression solemn, as he had done so many times for his siblings. “We can’t promise its safe return,” he begins. “But we’ll do our best to keep it safe. You’ve taken good care of it, and we’ll try and do the same. You know, we can’t do this without your help.”

Jamie nods, then holds it up to him. Lewis hesitates and looks at Vivi. Without a word Vivi reaches over and takes the tin from Jamie, and examines it. “A cigarette case?”

Rory nods. “I think it was a gift for their first anniversary,” he says. “I found it years ago when I was visiting a cousin for the summer. We sort of stole it back and forth from each other, until he gave up.”

Vivi opened the case and found some worn out and broken crayons inside. She hands these back to Jamie. Inside the door of the case was the elegant engraving F. Owen.

“I guess maybe when you do something you’re not supposed to,” Rory says, “you sometimes get stuck.” He takes another piece of KitKat and some coffee beans as Jamie goes for the plate of cookies. “I know some old ghost stories, I know how these things work.”

Lewis watched as Vivi turned the cigarette case in her hands. “We’re still not certain if he’s there,” Lewis said. “We’ll try and find out. There’s no harm in that, I hope”

When the goal of the errand concluded, Vivi offered that her group would take off and let the Owen’s resume normalcy. There were awkward goodbye’s and apologies, and Paula made sure to send the Mystery Skulls off with an extra package of cookies and a few cokes. All in all, the visit was not as distant from the numerous occasions before when Mystery Skulls were sent off to make amends for some creed that followed someone (or something) beyond the grave. At least it was no murder, which were the worst in Vivi’s opinion and the conclusion was always and never, and not beyond bittersweet.


	8. Chapter 8

##### Flare Ups

The ancient factory had been built in a portion of the town where vision had failed to flourish, while at the time traffic had moved so naturally in other developments and the town had forgotten of former allies. Roads surrounded the large of brick and steel monolith basking in the last carpet of light, the color of the air that had been so vibrant when on the other side of town now took a drab gray tone despite the fervent strokes of the diving sun. On the opposing sides of the factory roads sat a forest still trembling at the edge of industrial expansion, the other third of the territory beyond the old roads was invaded by large plots of land trampled for new venues. These temporarily abandoned construction zones where the roots of delicate architecture of steel beams and cement slabs sat, boarded by chain-link fences made statement for new growth rising from the ashes of destruction as the phoenix rose from its incineration.

A few vehicles, Arthur counted five, passed the van as it made its way down the road. The occasional crinkle of a wrapper and munching of the cookie came from the back, but there was otherwise little sound from the group as they made their second trip to the factory. Lewis had the passenger side window down and was leaning out checking the perimeter around, before Arthur turned off the main road to take the single lane path that ran around up the backside of the factory and to the thick gate that surrounded the plant. Soft whines came from Mystery in the back and coos from Vivi as she hushed the dog. 

The sun was falling faster and faster behind the distant hills and quivering tree lining, by the time Arthur brought the van to a halt beside the gate that surrounded the factory. He parked amongst tall trees and brush that tore through the rusted bars of the gate, but Arthur felt there was no danger of the vehicle being discovered or bothered while they were this far out from the main town.

Low ticks twittered from the engine of the van, once the ignition was cut. Without a word Arthur shoved the driver side door open and slipped out to inspect the falling dusk, and rising blues in the brisk cool air. Dust gravel and earth was rich on the breeze, dry leaves rattled over the bare path, and the familiar aroma of cheap old grease hung thick. The factory marinated in the memories and ill influence, of those that had once loathed its callous structure. As he moved along the vans side to the back, he looked up through the branches of the trees and saw the last light of sun gleaming orange and red from the few remaining windows in set beyond the great height of the distant gray wall.

The back doors creaked open and Vivi poked her head out. “Got a light?” she asked, and clicked on a flashlight. She held it out to Arthur and he took it.

“Got my bag?” Arthur caught it when Vivi slung it his way. “I’m… being sabotaged,” he said, as his metal arm fumbled to twist the correct way through the arm strap. Vivi assisted by carefully turning his arm further back, and spun Arthur around to reach through the strap proper. “Thanks.”

From the front of the van Vivi caught the sudden slam of passenger door, followed by the faint crunch of rock underfoot. “Can you carry a bag, Lew?” She slid out one more bag with her, and turned to check the eyes glinting behind the sunglasses.

“Yeah, give it here.” He took the offered bag, and stepped back as the odd patter of legs joined them. Mystery sprang out of the open back and when he hit the ground, gave a hard shake, as dogs do. His collar jingled as the hound worked out the loose hair and wrinkles in his muscles. Lewis saw the red eyes turn and look at him, before Mystery spun away and trotted over to Arthur. “Anything else?” Lewis asked, as he looked into the van.

“This should be everything,” Vivi answered. She moved away as Arthur returned, and slammed the back doors of the van shut. For a moment, Vivi fiddled with her backpack turning it around at her side and pulling, before she pulled out the camera. A bright flash went off and she lowered the camera and scanned through the images, her feet moving as she began leading. “C’mon Mystery. I know you don’t like the shoes, but it’s just for a few hours.”

Lewis smiled as he watched Mystery pad after Vivi. As everything done to him by his companions, Mystery endured it well. But he made them aware just how much he disliked wearing little dog shoes, even if they were the most fashionable black that Vivi could find, they still looked ridiculous. Even for a spirit as free as Mystery was, broken pieces of metal and dust coated glass was not worth weeks of sore, infected paws.

The group spread out as they moved along the rusted gate. Weeds and large trees had jutted through the bars of the fence, which had time ago surrounded the welding plant back in its prime. In the unlikely event of visitors Lewis had parked off the road, several yards away from the main gate entrance that led into the plants open loading yards. Over the years the entrance gate had corroded and fallen partially off its hinges, and no doubt many had entered the factory through this way. There was a small path formed in the gravel among the weeds, and the Mystery Skulls used it just as well to enter. Vivi viewed it as good luck omen, and that many before them had used the path to come and go safely from the factory, so of course they would too. Thought, it just as well meant a minor danger of unwanted company in the factory, but due to rumors of hauntings it was a higher possibility that no one would risk a night time visit.

Corrupted asphalt ended at the chipped and worn cinderblocks, stretching further into the sky than the naked eye could see. The day before the group had spent the first hour or two of the night hunting for a way in that they could all use, the group splint up in two separate direction and Arthur had eventually found an employee entrance near the utility shutters of the factories furthest side. Arthur had made an effort to hide the fact he found the doors, until Lewis began prying. The doors would be just around the corner of the building, and up a short set of cement steps.

Oil and grease permeated the air outside the factory, seeping through stones walls in its gradual escape. It was too late in the year for crickets, but somewhere above a bird chattered out into the night, getting the last song of the evening harmonized before sleep. Aside from their steps echoing with rich resonance off the sun bathed wall at their side, the air had a tranquil vapor that seemed to hover just over the groups shoulders. It wasn’t haunting, more unwelcome but less of an ominous presence as result of the absence of the living.

Arthur stumbled in his step and turned his gaze off from the group and scanned over the open road that picked at their side. He could just make out the amber outline of the vans roof through the trees and brush as the sun was falling and the air darkened around his eyes. Vivi paused to look at him, but Lewis kept walking with Mystery following. No one said a word, and once Arthur was done or felt better, he turned and resumed his march.

“Sometimes,” Arthur murmured, head lowered, “I swear, I sometimes hear things.”

Vivi walked beside him watching his downcast face. “Voices?” she asked. Arthur shook his head, somewhat timidly. “What then?” Arthur raised his shoulder and dropped them, but made no comment. Vivi pressed no more questions, but hurried in her steps.

The factory was a tall, single story. Lewis had already pushed the door in and was entering the near black atmosphere that pooled within the oily walls. He could detect the high ceiling and the ancient shutters, where light and wispy clouds formed above the broken spaces in the ceiling. Steel beams crisscrossed in jagged rusted pyramids, and cables or frayed electrical cords hung down in tatters from above. Large drums and tanks dotted the large floor below, a few of te long industrial tables stretched across the concrete expanse. Rusted and broken tools remained on top, and even a few leaves from the outside world had fluttered within. Footsteps scrapped at his back, and Lewis jerked away as Vivi and Arthur crept in.

Vivi clicked on her flashlight and ran the cold blue beam over the gray and crusty tools – Bunsen cords, metal rods, sheets of metal, all crumbling into the cement floor.

“I think I saw the office,” Arthur began. He shielded his eyes when Vivi turned to him, nearly catching his face with her flashlight. “I’m not sure, I didn’t actually go into it.” He snapped on his own flashlight and turned the yellow beam down on Mystery, as the dog led the way. “Unless that ghost made a point to hint about where we’re supposed to go.”

“No,” Vivi said, as she began following Arthur. “Let’s see what you found first.”

It was some distance through the factory, towards the front side. Along the way Arthur would breathe onto his knuckles and rub at his bad shoulder with his free hand. At odd intervals Vivi would lift the camera and take a picture, and occasionally she would share her find with someone, most the time it was Lewis as he would prompt first. Arthur didn’t like to be reminded of the things he couldn’t readily see. Mystery pad alongside the group and sometimes barking at a distant shape huddled beside a wall or large tank, shadows lurking that Vivi missed, or Mystery would pause and turn his attention into a particular direction and perk his ears high.

“That looks like the office,” Arthur had said, when they reached the bottom steps that rose to a higher story. It wasn’t so much a higher story as it was a small apartment that overlooked a large open section of the lower chamber. Arthur estimated this portion of the layout was designed in mind for the more important, high key projects. Ruble had fallen to the floor from the underside, and when they reached the top landing they could identify a large cracked window further back from the railing that would view across the open floor below. What glass remained was cracked and coated in a thick film, and the rusted frame was bent at jagged angles within the mortar wall.

Somehow throughout the years the door had remained locked, or rusted shut. The group ventured into the low ceiling alcove, Vivi trying the door before she stepped aside and shined her light on the doors knob. “Arthur, can you?”

Arthur stepped up and slumped off his backpack, he rubbed a finger over the tarnished plate illuminated in the blue light and hummed to himself. Mystery padded up to sit beside Arthur, as Arthur rummaged through the sack and pulled out a chisel and hammer. “Can you move a little to my left?” the mechanic asked. “Other left. Thanks.” Arthur put the chisel beside the plate in the doorframe and gave a few sharp blows. When the plate came off, Arthur examined the interior of the lock and deadbolt. Lewis watched as Arthur went back to his backpack, and pulled out a sharp pick. Lewis looked away as the harsh blows came, then a click. “Got it.” Arthur shoved the door with his shoulder until it inched open, a peeling squeal came from the rusted hinges as he moved the stubborn metal panel. Vivi moved beside Arthur and helped him wrestled the door open enough that they could slip through.

“Whoa, watch it,” Vivi said, as they stepped into the office. Several steps from the door and beneath the window was a large hole, at its depths was the carnage of ruble they had viewed on the ground below. “Careful where you step,” she further cautioned, as she crossed the spacious room. “Lew, can I have that bag now?”

Lewis had stepped into the room and was looking down into the open wound of the collapsed floor, and onto the broken teeth of ruble staring up at him. “Yeah, here,” he said, and passed the bag over. He turned and stared into the swirling murk and dull rust, before he turned away. “I don’t think I’m gonna be much help,” he admitted, as he watched Vivi explore around the room. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You can light candles, can’t you?” Vivi held up one of the tall cheap white candles sticks she bought in bulk.

Lewis looked at it, and smirked as he looked past the candle to Vivi. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea either.” He caught Arthur’s movement, as Arthur glanced over unaware his stare was caught. Lewis broke his gaze and snapped to attention, when a small camping lamp was tossed his way from Vivi. The lamp almost popped out/through Lewis hands as he grabbed for it.

“Turn that on, then,” she said, before she stepped over to Arthur with a collection of candles bunched together in one fist. Lewis turned the small lamp on and the bright LED covered the immediate area where Vivi had elected where they would begin their work. Vivi pointed out the broken wall scattered over the floor, and Arthur took out a stiff little brush to sweep away the larger bits of dust and rocks. As they submerged themselves in the routine, Lewis saw it fit to set the lamp down on the only available surface, the floor, and gave the room a fleeting scan.

The office was spacious despite its deterioration, enough that the group was not bumping into each other as they worked around. A side wall of the office had fallen across the room, large chunks of rusted metal and concrete made for an interesting stand for a section of the little shrine Vivi had constructed. She had two notebooks out on the floor and alternated between flipping through the separate pages, and marked shapes onto the flat sides of cement that were available as well as on the floor itself with a piece of graphite. Arthur had the lighter and was pressing wax down and fixing candles where Vivi directed. The little electric lamp placed near their workspace covered the area with soft white light, shimmering occasionally as Mystery paced the floor back and forth eagerly watching the work of his companions. At some point Mystery seated himself down and continued to supervise, as Vivi sets out a thin silver dish and places a bundle of sage on that between two burning candles.

Lewis moves away and again finds himself looking down through rebar and wood of the broken floor. It ebbed something in him that he didn’t want to feel, but he couldn’t avert his gaze. The rugged folded edges helped, made it seem less intimidating. He focused on the dark that was reaching, clawing to his limbs and chest. Until there was movement. Another ghost below, looking up at him. Lewis watched the other, and the other spirit stares back up appearing much like a living person, but for those eyes. Lewis was about to ask a question, when the ghost dissolved from sight, body first followed by the polished ribs.

“Have you started yet?” Lewis inquired. He turns to Vivi as she shakes her head. “Right. We might be gathering an audience.” But there was no indication where the other spirit had gone, or why it appeared. He doubted that was Fritz, though he had no reason to have an opinion yet. Lewis backed away from the broken floor, the weightless and dislocation that mingled in his core becoming unbearable. He looked to Vivi and Arthur as they mingled about in perfect unison and felt a mild pang, a whisper of disassociation twisting about their presence. As if he had become a spectator watching some scene unfold. The notion made him uneasy and Lewis felt the urge to say something, even a stupid comment about how nice Vivi’s hair looked with the shadows hovering over her, but he couldn’t. The lamp beside Lewis dimmed, and he moved across the room away from it as Vivi and Arthur glanced up.

“We’re ready to start,” Vivi announced. “Are you okay, Lew?”

He nods, as he spun around to look at the lamp and distract himself from the symbols shimmering under the light. His voice popped and sputtered before he managed a word. “Yes. Just, the other spook.” He intertwined his fingers and set his hands together in front of him. 

Vivi nodded and turned back to her work. “Just say anything,” she said as invitation. “Don’t leave me in the dark. Got it?” Lewis tilts his head towards her and nodded. Satisfied by this, Vivi moved to position herself behind the small circles drawn on the floor in front of the cracked slabs of concrete, where the rust and dust had been brushed away for more figures etched with graphite. Vivi moved her backpack off her shoulders and opened it up. Arthur moved to just behind one side of her shoulder, and Mystery placed himself a little behind and between Arthur and Vivi. “Could you come join us, then?” From her backpack Vivi pulled out another candle from her seemingly endless inventory, and a bundle of cloth. Lewis watches as Vivi unwraps the cigarette tin from the cloth as he moves to stand near the group. Vivi shoves the provision backpack aside, out of the way and Arthur leans over to hand her the lighter.

“Does the air feel a lot colder?” he asked. Arthur glanced around, and coils down into his vest. “I mean it. It feels a lot colder than that other night we were here.” He blows into his hands again and rubs at his shoulder.

“You really need to consider just wearing your sleeves down,” Vivi remarks. She shuffles the cloth and candle into one hand, and with a piece of graphite in her other hand, Vivi marks a rune on the floor and sets the cigarette tin on the symbol. “It’s not good for you to get sick all the time.” She sets the cloth aside, then takes the candle and lights the wick. 

“We’re calling, Fritz Owen,” she begins, initiating the séance. Vivi drops melting wax from the candle onto the cement beside the sage on the dish and sets the candle down on the edge of the circle between the cigarette tin and the unlit sage. “Fritz Owen. We would like to speak to you if possible. We insist you make your presence known.” She turns the backpack over in order to reach a side pocket and slips the lighter inside, and paused briefly when a distant clatter occurs. Slowly, Vivi pulls the camera from the bag and over onto her lap where she sits. She glimpses over her shoulder up to Lewis, and then resumed, “We have an item you once owned in life. Are you not compelled by our call?” Vivi focuses on the tranquil burn of the candlelight glistening off the marred side of the tin.

Arthur shifts where he’s seated on his knees. He looks over as Mystery sets his paw on his thigh, and Arthur reaches over to the dog’s neck and gives him a scratch. There is no draft in the musty office, the candle flames burn steady in the absence of disturbance and thought. But the air… shifts, or changes. He can feel that, the sense of it is uncanny as it bore into his spine. Arthur’s certain the shadows at the edges of the light have thickened, as if the grease that clung to the air was now swelling into something… irritated. He feels a tickle in his spin and trembles. “God, it is cold.” Vivi hushes him.

“Would you like to borrow my sweater?” she asks. Arthur shakes his head. Lewis is looking at him again.

“Focus, Vi,” Lewis says, instead.

“Right, right, I got this.” Vivi takes a deep breath, and resumes, “We know about you, Fritz Owen. You worked in the welding factory sometime during in the 1920s. You had a wife and a child,” she says, and paused. There was another sound, somewhere, a far off clatter echoed. She couldn’t discern if it was the sound of the factory decaying, or some animal scurrying around in the rafters overhead. She heard Arthur shudder, but ignored him. “Your wife, or someone close to you, gave you an item of sentimental value. We now have that possession. Will you not show yourself?” All is quiet, even the hiss of the candles compliant to the flat air have a no perceivable trill.

Arthur stiffens. A voice, barely audible but he could make out the echo on the words. No one, not even Mystery gazing off into the dark shattered wall of the connecting room, reacts to the utterance. “You guys,” he murmurs. “Guys. Vivi. Did you hear that? Please tell me you heard that?”

The answer is unanimous between Vivi and Lewis. “No,” “Nada.” And Vivi goes on to ask, with interest, “What’d you hear?”

Arthur shakes his head, and takes his hand from Mystery’s shoulders to rub at his own neck. “1924,” he said. “Something about 1924, I think. That’s all I heard.” Arthur brings both arms up to rub at his shoulders, and the soreness in his remaining left arm.

Lewis didn’t like this. He scanned the room over but could detect nothing, and saw nothing evident in the shadows. All he felt was the pull, and the urge to get away from the writing on the floor. It was suggestions and nothing more he reminds himself, but it made him uncomfortable. It could as easily be his sense of nerves and reflections as anything, but he wouldn’t attribute it to ‘phantom’ paranoia. Or was it because there was another seeking? Was Fritz hiding because of him?

“What would that mean?” Arthur whimpered. “1924?”

Vivi ponders over the date. “Well, that was during the Roaring twenties. When Fritz would have lived and would be working,” she said, pondering. “It was considered one of the best times to be an American. A lot of cultural mingling, jobs, the economy was booming.” Vivi’s voice became quiet. “Up until the Crash of Wall Street. But that has nothing to do with Fritz.” She looked over at Arthur briefly, then looks back to the cigarette tin as if to speak with it directly. “Fritz Owen. Did you die in 1924?”

Even before Vivi had finished her question, Arthur was fidgeting and looking around. “You heard it that time, right?” he asks, pulling his arms tighter around his sides. “I’m not going crazy?”

“You’re not going crazy,” Lewis says, tilting towards Arthur. “The spirit just chose you for some reason to transition answers.” 

Arthur gave a low whine in his throat. “WHY? I am the worst person!” 

Lewis looks away, toward the dark section of the open adjacent office Mystery had remained focused on. “I won’t disagree,” he mutters.

Arthur glares at Lewis, and sinks down into his vest collar a little. “That was an unnecessary comment.” Lewis shrugs showing his palms, and folds his hands behind his back.

“Art, focus,” Vivi said. She tugs on Arthur’s shoulder to get his attention. “What’d the spirit say?”

Arthur blinks at her. “No. Just… ‘no.’ I guess he didn’t die in 1924?” Arthur winces when Mystery leans into his side, pressing into his bad shoulder. “Hey bud.”

“Okay,” Vivi says, and rubs her hands together. She raises her hands near one of the candles and resumes. “Fritz Owen. When did you die? Do you remember how?” Vivi begins massaging her palms together, until Lewis crouches beside her and takes her hands in his. “Anything, Arthur?”

Arthur shakes his head as he glances around. “No voice,” he says. “No… sound.” Arthur looks away from Vivi and Lewis. “What!”

Lewis glances up in the direction Arthur is staring, and sees a gray shadow in the furthest side of the room gazing back. Arthur flops to his side and scoots away from the candles glow and the marks on the floor, as the dark shape drifts further into the room. The shade stops to stare at the four, its bright eyes going over each in turn. It is vaguely shapeless and more like a dirty sheet, a soft white glow comes from its chest. It moves closer to the cluster, much to Arthur’s dismay, and sways back then lowers to the floor where it seems to sink down into the cement. Its bright eyes continue to stare around at them, as the candle light wavers across its pale contrast against the dark gloom lingering around the electric lamp.

“That’s,” Vivi begins, edging out of Lewis hands. “That isn’t Fritz, is it?” She cocked an eyebrow at the small shroud as it bobbed up out of the floor.

Lewis glares at the little spirit as it glides up and seems to examine the display of melting candles set out on the cement and broken slabs littered around them. “I don’t… no, it isn’t,” he says. The spirits glimmering chest pulses in time with the locket hidden under his sweater, but otherwise the nondescript takes no interest in his presence at all. “I think he’s just curious.” He shuffles on his knees, but stops himself from rising when he notes the cigarette tin and markings on the floor. “Or maybe just scoping us out. He might be a friend to Fritz.”

When Vivi reaches out to the gray shade, the spirit drifts towards her. The candles flutter under the spirit as glides backwards from her hands. With a flutter of its shadowy edges and a sputter from the lamp, the ghost rises up and fades into the ceiling above. Arthur stares up until the shadow is gone, then heaves a thick breath.

“Fritz Owen,” Vivi goes on, with a small sigh. “Do you plan to appear before us? Will you talk to all of us, and not just our friend? That is very rude.”

Mystery perks his ears and moves away from Arthur’s curled up body. Mystery stares past Vivi to the window and gives a yap. There’s a sound of snapping, followed by a dull clatter as a a small section of the window cracks out of the marred and twisted frame. Lewis stands up but doesn’t move from his spot, in response to his movement the candles sway and dance causing the thick shapes mingling over the floor and walls to quiver under his presence. He sees nothing and no further activity was made apparent.

“Are you with us now, Fritz Owen?” Vivi questions. She looks up to Lewis when he looks back at her, and Vivi shakes her head. Lewis turns away, and Vivi continues, “We are calling you, Fritz Owen. You are compelled to obey.”

The dull air holds its countenance, but there is something new. A change in the thickness of the oppressive atmosphere, as if the factory had come alive for a brief and silent moment to expel a long lost sigh of decay. What glass that had fallen through the collapsed floor crinkles, tinkling down over rebar and wood.

Mystery gives another bark, right as Arthur shrieks. In the furthest corner of the room, near where the nondescript shade had manifested, now stood a dark figure cloaked by the shadows repelled by the light. The spirits eyes glint white deep in its dark eye sockets, gray hair is stylized in an undercut and the longer top upon the scalp is combined back. A portion of the suit around the shoulders has faded revealing bleached bones, and a white heart pulses dimly over the dark tatters draped over the ribs. The exposed remains of bone are coated in a black cloak of ravels that seem to seep from the shadows among the figure. What is most terrible about this apparition is the ugly frayed rope around the lingering collar of the suit. The remains of a noose.

Arthur is muttering, sinking down behind Vivi as she stares at the spirit in the corner.

“Why are you here, Fritz Owen?” Vivi asks, unblinking. “Why do you remain?” 

There is no sound, or none that can be heard. The spirit soaks back into the shadows as if it had never been. In the distance a crash comes, audibly relatable to a large structure that was shoved over or thrown aside. 

Arthur calms down somewhat when he sees the shadow absent, and pokes his head up from where he was bent down. “He says, he is not happy that we are here,” Arthur whispers, to Vivi. “He wants us to leave.” 

“Well,” Vivi huffs, “We’re not leaving until you make yourself more hospitable. We had to buy KitKat’s and coffee beans, and we didn’t get to try any of them.” She glanced around, but saw no indication of the spirit. “After this though, we’re gonna try it. Together. We were told it’s good, by your great-great-great grandson.”

“I think it’s just great-great grandson,” Arthur says. He paused and frowned. “Fuck. I can taste chocolate and coffee!” He licks his lips. He couldn’t deny the rich flavor on his tongue, it was clearly there and on his breath. And…. “It’s… it’s kind of good, actually.” Arthur smacks his lips.

Viv sniffs at the air, and looks over at Lewis standing near them. “I can smell coffee?” she said. “Like, from a bag. Fresh beans. It’s like I’m standing in a Starbucks.” She beams at him. “It’s so weird, one minute this place smells like grease and yuck, and now I’m craving coffee.” She sniffs a little more and squeals, barely able to hold still. “Incredible.”

Lewis makes no comment, but smiles. This was a refreshing change.

“That’s very impressive, Fritz Owen,” Vivi continues. She adjusts her glasses on her nose, and shifts her legs on the grit digging uncomfortably into her knees. “We know you killed yourself in this office, Fritz Owen. And we know what happened to cause you to do what you did.”

Mystery looks back at Arthur as he quivers and lowers down more, hiding his face beside his shoulder. “‘You know nothing,’” murmurs Arthur.

Lewis looks over at the trembling figure, a warning sparked in him. He could feel Arthur, pick out the parts that were him and found nothing too distressing or mangled. It was just Arthur being frazzled and spiked, but he didn’t like that part. The tone his voice had taken. “Try us,” Lewis hissed. He looked away from Arthur and scanned the office over. “Tell us. But leave him alone. You can talk to us, we’ll listen.” The dark in the room seemed to pull back and lighten, but he wasn’t certain if the others had caught it.

“He… doesn’t want to,” Arthur says. He leans up as Mystery pushes his nose under his chin. “He doesn’t trust us. I think it takes too much out of him.” Mystery crawls over Arthur’s lap and looks into the far side of the room, where the two spirits had appeared from.

Something was different, something that Lewis had missed. A twinge of pain crept into Arthur, but faded out. “I get it,” Lewis said, watching Arthur as he slumped down beside Vivi. “He’s weak. He can’t do much but lurk and talk.” Something faded behind Arthur, a face and dark eyes glowering. Lewis missed the glance Vivi shot his way. There was another resonance somewhere, a clang of hollow metal. “Then you throw a tantrum. You can’t even do it with us watching.” Arthur makes a sound, a low groan as he huddles down.

Vivi looks away from Arthur and stares across the room. She raises the camera up and flashes a picture. She stands up beside Lewis as she activates the image viewer, and shows the screen to him. Something inside Lewis feels cold, as if his soul was squirming inside his ribs. From the broken ceiling beside the window dangles a noose, and a shadow hung from it.

“Cool,” Vivi murmurs. Lewis says nothing. The collective group winces when a chair crashes through the room from the adjacent office, and splinters against the floor close to where they stand. On the other side of the room poised beneath the memory of the noose, the ghost hovers within the vacant wound in the floor.

“I want you to leave now,” it hisses.

It takes a beat for the collected to recover, and adjust to the reappearance of the spirit. Arthur mumbles something under his breath, as Lewis shrugs off the rash incident. “So, he speaks without a puppet,” he goads, crossing his arms over his chest. Lewis smirks when Fritz glowers up at him.

“Talk to us for a bit,” Vivi offers, “And we’ll leave you alone. That’s all we want.” She lowers the camera in her hands when the spirit turns his attention to her. The spirit says nothing, just watches with its bright white eyes. “Why are you here?” she prompts, when nothing is first uttered.

The spirit raises his shape above the broken floor and leans to one side. “Because you won’t stop calling me,” it said. His focus falls to the marks on the floor, or perhaps the cigarette tin set there. 

“You know what I mean, Fritz Owen,” Vivi retorts.

“And stop using my full name,” Fritz says, gaze never leaving the floor near Vivi’s feet. 

She replies, “Only if you don’t leave. Just answer our questions.” Fritz fades somewhat as she takes another picture, and Vivi asks him to answer. “Are you tethered?” she continues. “Is there something we can help you resolve?” 

“There must be a reason,” Lewis picks up, and gestures to Frtiz. “Don’t you find it oppressive, waiting around this place? Even if you didn’t die here? But you did…. This can’t be by your choice.”

Fritz makes a sound, a cracked chortle. “I do like it here.” He raises himself to set his heels onto the edge of the wrecked floor and perched there, with his ragged arms folded behind his back. He looks from Lewis to Vivi, Fritz’s eyes dim in their sockets. “That’s ALL you need to know.”

Arthur looks at Mystery when Mystery head bumps his bad shoulder gently. The dog looks over his ambers glasses into Arthur’s eyes, and Arthur blinks as he turns to peer at the spook carefully. 

“This is where I belong,” Frtiz goes on. “Call me sentimental, but I don’t want to leave for… whatever. It’s not that I’m afraid or anything, you understand.” He drops his attention back to the tarnished metal case surrounded by the markings and candles.

“You’re lying,” Arthur mumbles. Fritz peers beyond Vivi to Arthur. “Viv, he’s lying. He’s hiding something.” Arthur sits up more as Mystery moves to stand in front of him. 

Vivi looks back to the spirit, and asks, “You wanna try again?” Without response Fritz dims out of sight. Vivi sighs with exasperation. “Fritz Owen,” she calls, partly to the floor, “we are not done here. I’m calling you back, Fritz—” She’s shoved and falls backwards onto Arthur. Mystery yelps when she tumbles over him, and he scrambles away barking at the shadows crawling around them when one of the candles tips over and rolls on the floor. 

“Vi!” Lewis spins and ducks down to grab her off Arthur. Mystery is still snarling at lingering shrouds, and spitting at the odd shapes twisting on the broken ceiling above them. “That was uncalled for,” he hissed, voice low and seething. When he moves to pull Vivi up onto her feet, Fritz is standing there glaring down on the huddled group. The noose hangs down the spirits bleached bone knit front, and the candlelight on the floor causes his shadow to stretch around them, outward from the black cloak slung around his glinting collar and shoulder blades.

“This is your last warning!” The spirit booms, eyes blazing. “Leave or I’ll give you a reason to run. No more questions. No negotiations. You’ll cling to that hope your lot makes it beyond these walls without me tied to your heels.” 

Flames gush from Lewis collar when he twists away from Vivi on the floor, and he lunges up at the looming dark figure. Magenta fire rolls from Lewis’ cuffs as he swipes out at Fritz, the sudden movement jostles the sunglasses off Lewis’ face and the glasses clatter to the floor at his feet as he rears up over the other spirit, eyes blazing from the pits of their black sockets. Fritz recoils from the violent motion and smoothly perches a distance back from Lewis staring, a lack of comprehension evident in the bleached visage.

“You’ve done something,” Lewis says, standing between his group and the other entity. Magenta embers crackle as they hover defensively beside his sizzling shoulders, blistering the poor edges of his blackened sweater. “There’s a reason you’re stalling. If you tell us, then maybe – and that’s a strained maaayybe – we’ll let you be. But my strongest advice would be that you Do. NOT. Lie.” Fritz says nothing, just stares at Lewis with an expression akin to unease. After a terse pause the skull and bones fade from the room and Fritz’s presence is gone. “Damn it.”

“You okay?” Vivi asks. She touches the pale patch of skin on Arthur’s head. He brushes her hand off.

“Yes, still in one piece,” Arthur says, as he raises his prosthetic. “Which is good.” He takes Mystery by the collar as the mutt tries to pad by again, nervous and snuffling at the dust kicked up. “Settle down, bud. We’re okay.” Mystery wags his tail and leans up to lick Arthur’s face.

Vivi stands beside Lewis, still poised and tense facing the vacant air the other ghost had occupied. She sets a wary hand on Lewis’ shoulder, gently. “Hey? He didn’t know you were a ghost?” she poses, and prods at the scorch threads around Lewis’ neck and stares.

It took a while for Lewis to let his agitation diminish, and he turns to Vivi. “Apparently,” he said, looking to the tatters of the sweater on his arm and the remains of his smoldered glove. Vivi noticed his suite, now exposed through the open splotches in the sweater.

“How does that work?” she asked, looking up at his face. In their recent travels, Lewis had neglected to remove any of his physical articles since visiting the Owen’s. He hadn’t bothered or either forgot, the matter on its own was unimportant so long as Lewis could look human, or appear Alive, among other people. Little by little it began to dawn on Vivi that she too had forgotten of Lewis unique state for a short while, if only briefly, though her focus had been diverted onto the séance. The realization spread a tinge of guilty through her.

“I must be very convincing,” Lewis said, with a smirk. “And you were complaining I needed to recover faster. I wasn’t even startled.”

“Yeah,” Vivi agreed, lost in her own thoughts. “Fritz couldn’t see you coming.” Recalling their current subject, she turned to Arthur and knelt beside him. “Art, what was that?” she asked, setting a hand on his bad shoulder. “Did someone talk to you?”

Arthur seemed to melt under her hand and lowered his head. He set his flesh hand on Mystery’s shoulder and gently rocked the dog crouched beside him. “The accidents,” he said, voice low. “I was… I nearly forgot. Remember? The one major incident that started it. The terrible accidents.”

Vivi looked away, to the cigarette case and the candle slowly going out beside it. “Accidents,” Vivi repeats, as her mind gathers back the obscure details they had collected. “1924. Faulty equipment following the… oh god.” She stood up and turned to Lewis, holding her hands up, one hand still held the camera. “The accidents,” she began. “The worst, the freak accidents only happened after Fritz’s suicide.”

Lewis looks away, to the ugly ruin of a hole and the glimmering rebar and glass within. “We don’t know that for sure,” he says. “The equipment was old. Even Fritz suffered injury from it.”

“He wouldn’t know any better,” Vivi said. She ducks around trying to find Lewis eyes where they had diverted onto the floor. “His family said he was… broken, mentally shot. What does the loss of sight and hearing do to a person? He killed himself in this room. He can’t find peace on his own.” Lewis winced at her words. “He has to be expelled from here. He can’t stay.” Vivi takes his chin and pulls his face to meet her eyes. “It’s not good for him, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Lewis answers. Though, he turns away as Vivi slips to the floor beside Arthur and drags her bag close, she begins rummaging through bottles, some rolls of paper, and yet more candles. He knows she’s taking stock, deciding what would be best implemented for expelling a spirit through exorcism. Lewis isn’t certain what he feels, but he knows Vivi is right. A wandering specter lost and confused was one matter, but a suicide was a whole other miasma of potential corruption and disaster. But—

A low grinding sound came from overhead. Mystery goes ballistic, barking and jerking at Arthur’s leg dragging him across the floor, despite the protests of Arthur trying to shield himself with his satchel. Lewis jerks back grabbing Vivi and Arthur, while Mystery remains tangled with Arthur’s pants leg. A strangled yelp wrenches from Arthur’s lungs, as Lewis slings the group aside. A section of the roof cracks and drops, pieces of cinderblock slam down over the chunks of wall across the floor and the cigarette tin, as with the Vivi’s personal bag that had been left in the panic.

Lewis turns back once he’s assured the others are wary of their surroundings, in the event of another attempt on their life. “At least we didn’t _promise_ to return the tin,” Lewis mutters.

Vivi’s expression of horror deflates as the dust settles, and the crackles of mortar fades. “He’s definitely getting exorcised now.” She creeps away from Lewis, the only light now available being the lamp still seated on the floor. She stares at the pile of bricks as Lewis approaches, with Arthur and Mystery close behind him. “This is going to be difficult without the anchor.” She pulls the provision bag over her shoulder and ponders. The lamp on the floor sputters, then goes out. “Shit.” Mystery snorts when he sneezes in the dark, scaring Arthur a bit.

Arthur jerks his flashlight from his back pocket of his pants and clicks on the light. He turns the yellow beam from Mystery, over to the wreckage and waves away a bit of the lingering silt. “I say we call it a night,” he offers, and coughs. Arthur slinks back when Lewis glares at him, eyes burning in the dark outline he stood within. “Or not? Vi? Back me up here.”

“The tin wasn’t an anchor,” Lewis said. He folds his arms behind his back, and felt the odd unevenness of his covered arm and the tatters of the sweater on the other. “It was a bind. It’s wrecked now, we can’t use it.” Lewis paused, as Vivi turns to him. She had her flashlight on and was shining the soothing blue light just under his collar. “We’ll need something else.” He knew what she was looking at now.

“Lew. Go on,” Vivi encourages. She didn’t know how hard this was for him.

“He’ll carry something HE cherished in life. It’s,” Lewis hesitates, and glanced over the room when another sound, a tinkling echoed in the other open space of the office. “It’s not real, not in a physical sense. But to him it will be.”

Vivi nods. “Okay,” she says. “Then we should go and find Fritz, or whatever this thing is he cherished.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Arthur begins.

“I agree for once,” Lewis states. “Beside, you don’t even—” Lewis’ voice rattles off, when Vivi pressed a finger to his lips.

“It’s the heart, right?” Vivi accuses. She drops the flashlight from his collar, and takes her hand from his face. “All the ghosts we’ve seen – every single one – even the deadbeats have one. Don’t give me that look, Lew. You were very protective of your heart when we first encountered you in your mansion.”

Lewis drew back from Vivi and raised a hand to his chest. “We’ll,” he mumbled, and his voice had the odd crackle to it. “I can’t say yes or no. But don’t take it lightly, Fritz will be more than willing to harm to keep you away from it.”

“I know,” Arthur says. And Lewis looks at him and can see Arthur’s eyes quite clearly, and Lewis detects something pacifying in Arthur’s aura. “That part you don’t remember.” The statement is missed by Lewis, but he nods slowly as it comes back. Arthur remembers and it’s a sensation Lewis tries to remove himself from.

“That’s good enough,” Vivi said, as she looked between Lewis and Arthur. “Then let’s go.” Lewis reaches over and takes her arm. She wrenches her arm back out of his grip. “No Lew!” 

“You’re not going to look for him, I am!” Lewis’s voice echoed, the resonance clipping over the walls in the office. Vivi opened her mouth to protest, but Lewis raised himself more and cut off her voice. “This guy wrecks walls, and tampers with machinery,” Lewis goes on with harsh chatters, his eyes brightening within the dark pits of his eye sockets. “Remember those gremlins? This’ll be ten times worse.”

Arthur cringes beside Mystery and pulls the dog close to him. “Let’s just let them duke it out, huh?” Mystery opens his mouth to pant, his breath misting in front of his face. A few times Lewis tried to turn Vivi around or grab Vivi, and she would shove Lewis back and Arthur would wince. As this went on, Arthur sighed and pressed his face into the dog’s fur. He says, “Sometimes I think you’re the only one that understands me.” Mystery yaps.

Lewis tries to put his hands on Vivi’s shoulders. “I don’t—” Vivi swats his hands away, and he retreats that time.

“Lew!” Vivi snaps, and sets her free hand over the locket hidden under the sweater. “He’s sacred of you. He’s weak and scared of us all. He can’t harm us unless we let him, and we won’t. Right Arthur?” 

 

Arthur perks up from cuddling Mysery and nods. “Yes? Wait, no!” He tries to stand, and slips back to his knees beside Mystery. “He’s dangerous Viv!”

“One collapsed ceiling!” she sneered. “Whoop De Doo! I’ve seen worse! WE’VE dealt with worse!” Arthur goes quiet and doesn’t comment. Vivi turns back to Lewis. “I am not going to let you go out there and do this on your own! I won’t. I watched you do that once, and if I can help it I will not sit by and watch you do that again! Do you understand what I’m saying?” Lewis lowered his hands from Vivi as she heaved a few gasps and collected herself. “Now listen here,” she resumed, voice calmer, “Fritz will play keep away, because he doesn’t belong here and he knows it! He’s broken. We’ll find that artifact, and perform the exorcism in this room.” 

Lewis looks away. Maybe. Maybe she is right. Maybe. He couldn’t say no to her face now. The sensation crept back into him, dislocation and weightless in an essence that troubled his tangible shape. Lewis crackles, and speaks, “You’re right. But, give me a second.” He leaves Vivi and returns to the ruble of the roof that had fallen over the floor and the marks Vivi had carefully laid down. The floor shifts not from his weight, but from the blocks of bricks and wood he shoves away until he uncovers a section of the floor. “Arthur,” Lewis said, and beckons with a finger. “I need your hands for a moment.” 

Arthur glances from Vivi to Mystery. He stands and shuffles over to Lewis. “It’s nothing dangerous, right?” Arthur scuttles back when the floor creaks under his weight, he gives Lewis feet a look where Lewis is poised, weightless, beside the wreckage.

“I’m right here,” Lewis said, and beckons with his hand. “Just get the tin out.” He hovers back as Arthur, still jittery, peers into the opening in the cement chunks. Arthur uses his flesh arm to reach through the pinned stones and without much trouble he wrenched free the shattered halves of the warped tin. “It’s broken? Good. Hold up the pieces separately and close your eyes.”

Arthur gives Lewis a distrustful scowl. “What? Why?”

Lewis’ eyes brighten with irritation. “Arthur,” his voice comes wispy, almost in a cheerful melody. “Do it. You owe me.”

“Why?” Arthur says, voice breaking.

“Doritos,” Lewis supplied. He waits as Arthur appears to want another go with the argument, but Arthur relents. Arthur sticks the flashlight into his back pocket, and takes a piece of the tin in either hand. “You two might want to avert your eyes too.” Lewis glimpses Vivi and her incredulous expression, and Lewis is compelled to cool her unease. “I’m not going to hurt him.” Lewis touches the collar of his suit, compelling the heart to twirl free from his chest and hover at his fingertips. “But I don’t think you want to wind up like Fritz.” When Vivi and Mystery had shut their eyes, Lewis guides the locket between the two pieces of the cigarette tin. 

As the locket hovers between the warped pieces of metal, Lewis raised a hand and faced a palm over the twin tin pieces. His eye sockets flare bright magenta and for a brief moment his skull is visible through the skin of his façade, bright flames flicker up from his suit collar. The remaining scraps of the gloves burn away when pink fire engulfs his hands, projecting a coal red symbol onto the surface of the tin.

Arthur gives a high pitched yelp when he accidentally opens his eyes, and catches sight of the eerie fire and skull face of Lewis. “Geez! Fuck.” He dropped the tins as he stumbled backwards into the furthest wall. “Thank you for the warning!”

“You’re welcome,” Lewis rattles. He looks down on the tins as the fire at his hands dies out, and the surface of the bent metal cools. Lewis glances at Vivi as she approached with Mystery beside her. “We’ve dealt with worse,” he said, as he admires the locket drifting at his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Vivi said. She reaches out to the locket, until Lewis catches it by its base and turns to her. He doesn’t move as Vivi reaches over and sets her hand upon the softly pulsing heart gleaming in the gloom. The bluish tint fades to golden under her touch. “You’re not gonna lose us.” 

“Not gonna lose you,” Lewis hums. When Vivi lowers her hand, Lewis returns the locket to the front of his suit hidden behind the sweater. He took a piece of the crumpled tin and gave it to Vivi, then took the other broken half. Arthur was still seated against the wall, rubbing at his flesh hand. “Are you hurt?”

Arthur shook his head and stood up, ignoring Lewis outstretched hand. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just surprised, that’s all.” He looked up at Lewis, before he was handed the remaining half of the tin. “Is this some sort of protection?” Arthur ventures, as he examined the mark in the tin.

“I don’t know,” Lewis admits. He glides after Vivi, who was already headed to the broken door.

“Then why all the flash and dazzle?” Arthur asked. He hurried to catch up with them. Mystery followed, and kept close to his heels.

“Fritz will not like it,” Lewis says. He glides out of the door to stand with Vivi, and waits as Arthur and Mystery catch up. “I used that symbol to… repel unwanted entities. We’ll find out what happens.”

Arthur paused to look at the tin again, and was reminded of the crypt and the coffin. It did make sense, but maybe not to Lewis as much as Arthur had decided it should. “Wait,” Arthur groaned, “are we going to splint up? Guys, that’s a terrible idea!”

“It won’t be that bad,” Vivi insists. She shines her light on Arthur’s chest when he begins to shake. “You and Mystery. Watch each other’s backs, and above all don’t get separated. You have a walkie-talkie, so don’t shut it off like you always do.” Lewis smirked. Arthur’s Achilles' heel – he could run, he could evade, he could pick locks like nothing else in a pinch – but Arthur always and never failed to forget to turn on his walkie-talkie. “Mystery, you’ll protect Arthur.” Mystery barks, and trots to stand behind Arthur and pressed his side into the back of his companions trembling legs. “Just don’t be afraid,” she says. “If you need to, make some runes and a circle of salt. You got this Artie.”

“I don’t,” Arthur whines. Mystery barked and pranced around to Arthur’s front and hopped up to plant his front paws, in shoes, on Arthur’s thighs. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Mystery.” Mystery barked, insisting he did know. But Arthur would rather be with Mystery than left alone with Lewis.

“You’ll be fine,” Lewis said. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. You’re good at that.” Arthur mutters some words under his breath, but Lewis didn’t care for it. “Remember the tin, but be careful. There’s a chance you just might upset him with it.” 

Lewis didn’t plan to let it come to that, and in a way, he wished Vivi was going along with Arthur. When he found Fritz, and there was no doubt in Lewis’ intangible sense that he would, he didn’t plan to let the hostile spirit off before he managed to give Fritz a firm piece of the negative emotions brewing in his heated loathing. For that little stunt in the office, Lewis vowed to find Fritz by any means available. Even if it meant violating none corporeal laws, and endangering his own contentious state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If a ghost can get confused about whether they're alive or not, then you can't tell me another ghost might not realize someone else is a ghost. I guess for a while there, we all forgot Lewis was a ghost? Sort of....
> 
> Yeah....


	9. Chapter 9

##### Stalwart Silver 

Sometimes he wondered over the rational capacities of his comrades. Given, even if he found the artifact of which Fritz Owen would have taken great care to protect, it may be unrecognizable and therefore overlooked. Just as well they were searching through AN ENTIRE WAREHOUSE for a literal needle in a haystack. There was no guarantee that it would be found and if so, no guarantee it would not still be under Fritz’s protection.

Alas, there was no harm in the attempt. It was more likely that Fritz would turn rash and make his appearance known and with his cherished possession in his care, the process of separating the fractured souls a suitable option therein. If all else, Vivi could still perform an exorcism without it, but it would be preferable to have the heirloom.

Mystery padded ahead ducking under or around the rusted legs of the long worktables affixed to the cement floor, his little boots clunked through the layer of dust. Sounds came from the distant walls and Mystery would give pause to turn his head, ears held high as he listened to the rustle of whatever was there – animal, or something. There would be eyes at times watching the dog from under the pale gloom of moonlight trickling from the open shutters above, but never the irritated gaze of their adversary. These eyes watched curiously before they duck away, vague lumps keeping track of the visitors at a safe distance. For some time Arthur kept religious attention to Mystery’s sharp movements, but as they crept deeper through the factories work zones Arthur’s nerves became frayed.

The yellow flashlight beam tumbled through the thick murk, trailing over tanks and forgotten machinery as Arthur sought comfort through enlightenment. He had been rambling on shortly before, but quieted for a moment when he focused outward. A soft whine building somewhere in his chest as his light poked and prodded over tables, a collection of shattered chairs chair. The blue bobbing lights drift away before the yellow torch beam finds them, and Mystery is thankful for this and continues padding under a rusted bench.

Upon picking up the carefree steps of the dog, Arthur heaves a small breath and resumes following. “But it’s never going to be the same,” Arthur went on. “Have you ever watched the ‘Funky Phantom?’”

Mystery snorted. He was low to the floor, and despite his best efforts he was still sweeping the fine silt around his paws. Mystery rubbed at the black of his nose with the inner side of his foreleg and kept walking, sniffing at the air. The tar and propane burned his nose, but he could still pick out the traces of ozone and electrical current that was trademark of ethereal residue. Arthur continued, darting the flashlight beam over the cinderblock walls segregating some of the larger machinery and work stations. Mystery only paid half attention to what he was saying, something about Lewis. Very little light was needed by Mystery as he poked around corroded cables and nosed into any tight cracks that otherwise might be missed, while Arthur seemed distracted by his tangent. When Arthur’s voice went soft, Mystery paused and waited for his charge to catch up. Arthur looked at Mystery, his light falling over the soft white pelt of the dog as Mystery stared back up at him and wagged his tail.

I know you’re having it rough. I’m here for you. Mystery leaned onto Arthur’s leg as Arthur reached down to rub at the back of his head.

“Thanks for sticking by me, bud,” Arthur said. As he straightened up Arthur returned his light to their path, and Mystery trotted on ahead around the corner of a tall wall. “He’s never actually said it, y’know. I don’t blame him though,” Arthur said. He adjusted the backpack straps over his shoulders as he hurried after Mystery. “I don’t know if I wanna hear him say it. That’s funny, right?”

Mystery barked, his sharp voice snapped back off the cinderblock walls and rattled in the rafters above. Mystery crossed over the floor back to the wall, from the shattered windows above in the high wall light from the full moon slipped in to coat patches of the floor and glitter on glass. The dust coated glass crinkled under Mystery’s boots as he pranced over it, and for a while he was glad for the little extract protection. He pauses and looks back as Arthur skid to a halt and set his light outward, onto the large barrels and broken equipment scattered beside a cinderblock wall.

“It doesn’t feel like anything’s changed. At all,” Arthur went on, as he shuffled closer to Mystery. In the swirling dust and moonbeams, Mystery could pick up on his shoulders shaking. Arthur said something, and then groaned in his throat. “I don’t know how to put it into words. Do you feel me, though?”

Mystery grumbled something, then and spun away to hop over a fallen tank and kept walking. As Mystery tracked he kept his nose lowered to a suitable distance from the floor, fearful he would become too engrossed and might cut his face on some hazardous end or corner missed in the dark murk. Arthur made another sound of discomfort, and Mystery yipped in response. They needed to focus, Arthur could talk to Lewis later about it but not before they had completed their task. Regardless if it was possible or not.

“You’re right,” Arthur said. “What should we even be looking for? What would it look like?”

Mystery stopped at the edge of a grated walkway and looked back at Arthur. Mystery shrugged his shoulders to the best of his ability, and left the wall to step along the edge of the grate and the railing that rose beside it.

“Where would you even hide something like that?” Arthur says. He stepped up beside Mystery and set his hand down on the clammy, gummy rail that boarded off a twenty foot drop. Arthur began to feel uneasy, despite the safety rail, and jerked around to make certain nothing was behind him. Arthur jolted in place when Mystery padded off, the boots on Mystery’s paws clanked on the grate they stood upon. “Jeez” Arthur wheezed, pressing the torch to his throbbing chest. “You startled me! Give me a warning when you’re moving around.”

Mystery gave a non-consoling growl. He was not going to baby Arthur. Vivi did that enough already.

“I’m really jumpy,” Arthur said, defensive. “I can’t see like you! And there’s a very not nice ghost hanging around.”

Mystery grumbled, and snorted the air. When the troch beam fell over his shoulder, Mystery looked back to Arthur and gave a soft whine.

“I know, I know,” Arthur said, lowering his voice. “‘Screaming will draw attention to us.’ Last thing we need. What’s exactly going to keep him from bothering us?” Arthur asked. “Aside from the little tin piece? But even Lewis said it wouldn’t do much but irritate him.”

The grate came to a set of cement steps that descended beside the wall to an open basement floor of the factory. Mystery gave a half bark to Arthur as he began descending.

“It’s normal for me, okay?” Arthur said, in a raspy tone as he tried to keep his voice down. “I don’t wanna be apprehensive, but I can’t help it. I’m always the target – weird cults, I’m there; conduit for séances, I have a great voice; vengeful wraiths, take a number; demonic possession—?” Arthur stopped there. He followed Mystery down the steps quietly, there light steps reverberated off the distant walls. “I can’t blame ‘em though. Why go after someone like Lewis, when I’m around?” He paused on the steps and after taking a few more down ahead, Mystery stops as well to look back at him. “Why did I never think about that?”

Mystery tugs his ears back along his scalp and whined a bit. We needed to keep moving.

“I was blocking,” Arthur concludes. “The truth hurts.” Arthur turns his light down on Mystery, when Mystery climbs back up to his feet and tugs at his pants leg with his teeth. “They won’t even mess with you.” Mystery tugs, a low growl bubbled up in his chest. Arthur crouched down and put his hand on Mystery’s cheek to rub the dogs face, and loosen his teeth from his pant leg. “Thanks,” Arthur says, as Mystery looked up over the flashlight beam. “Thanks for everything.” Mystery pressed his forehead to Arthur’s forehead, and Arthur massaged at the soft neck of the dog. “Have I said that lately?”

Mystery whimpered and pressed into Arthur a little more. You say it far too often.

“I don’t want you to forget that you’re important to me,” Arthur said. Mystery tilts his head down as Arthur pulled him onto his lap for a tight hug. “Because you listen.”

Mystery didn’t know if any of this was good for Arthur, at least Arthur was participating and talking. Even if the search was in vain, Arthur would be safe with him.

___

Aside from the occasional crack, or unseen sound fabricated by shimmering rolls of shadow, no indisputable evidence of aggression was made apparent. Somewhere was a distinct humming from above, as if live cables still ran electricity through the air. Lewis had made note to Vivi that there was no current anywhere, the air was frigid and… dead. There was no doubt in Lewis good sense that since their encounter with Fritz, the other spirit was keeping tabs on them. Though he couldn’t pick up on a presence, there was a change in the atmosphere. A steady seep of ire crept through the solid cement beneath their feet. Lewis didn’t like it. They were being watched and there was no way he could divert the attention from Vivi. But if Fritz did have full intent of harming Vivi to force them into abandoning the factory, then perhaps she was better off under his watch. It was too soon to say.

The blue beam of Vivi’s torch light led the way around the long work benches covered in decrepit rusted parts, and the few propane tanks. “Well?” Viv had prompted. “I’ve got nothing.”

Lewis hesitates a moment, staring up at the dark shutters above and the intricate steel beams that constructed the interior of the ceiling. “It could only be entrusted to someplace of significant importance,” Lewis said. “If not the office,” he went on, “then an area where he worked. Unless he’ll just keep it with him.” Lewis really didn’t know, and he had run out of different methods of phrasing the response of ‘we’re-not-the-same-so-stop-asking.’ Sure Fritz followed similar guidelines, but whatever that entailed was the other ghost’s own personal business.

Vivi searched wherever it looked interesting, shines her light up under the worktables and poked through some of the tools left to molder on the dusty tables. “Maybe that place where he was blinded?” Vivi asked. She rubbed some of the oily stickiness off on the back of her skirt, before crawling under a table. Lewis glides up over the table, while unable to pass through solid object while he wore his physical effects. He had been lightly reminded a few times, as Vivi took easier paths up or around obstacles and Lewis was forced to follow. He didn’t—

A small cry came from Vivi when she dropped to her side and hit her elbow on the hard concrete floor. Lewis was at instant alert and swept down to take her arm and help her up, his own feet slid over the slick surface as he took on some of Vivi’s weight.

“I slipped,” Vivi said, as Lewis helped guide her from the slick patch of floor. The flashlight was still rolling away, jagged shadows stabbed up and down the tables and walls as they caught the choppy blue light of the torch. One black drape hovered constant, perched above a large portion of partially constructed metal frame.

“That will be your final warning,” the spirit said, voice hard. 

Lewis pulled Vivi behind him and kept an attentive gaze on Fritz, while the other spirit watched on with the white embers in his eye sockets smoldering. Lewis took note the heart upon Fritz’s chest was gone, it was only the bones and dark suit visible in the haze of the flashlight. “He’s hidden it,” Lewis hissed. Vivi stared beyond Lewis’ elbow, as Fritz raised a wrist to the space of dark shrouds on his collarbone as if noting their warranted attention. To Fritz, Lewis says, “We’re aware of your involvement with the factory since your death. You may want to reconsider your following actions.” 

“What do you know?” Fritz poses, as he drifts from the cracked metal and to a table top closer to where Vivi and Lewis huddled. “Only what you want. I’m not trying to fight you over this, I’m telling you. Leave. Me. Alone.” Tendrils of silver mist move from his feet through the rusted tools and dust, coating over whatever the white cloak settles onto with a thin fuzz.

“Lew. My light,” Vivi says, patting his arm. “I need my light.” Lewis is hesitant, but he steps aside from Vivi to retrieve her flashlight from the floor. “You’re family, Fritz,” Vivi says, as Lewis ducks away. “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

The lights in Fritz’s skull dim, unconcerned with Lewis’ close proximity, beneath a table mere yards from where he was perched. Fritz looks away from Vivi. “She… remarried,” Fritz says. “She’s not mine anymore. I….” The spirits voice faded off with a scratchy undertone.

“You’re not a bad person,” Vivi continued. She took the torchlight when Lewis presented it, but angled the blue beam down at her own feet. Lewis stood beside Vivi, his bright eyes fixed on Fritz. “Sometimes we lose ourselves, and in our weakest moment,” she hesitates, as Fritz sways, the silver tendrils continue to work down over the table legs and out across the floor. Vivi shudders and feels her breath mist in the moonlight. “We strike out at others. Even those that want to help us, or those who were once our friends. I don’t believe you could help it.”

Fritz’s skull bobbed above his collarbone. “You’re a sweet girl,” he says. “But you don’t understand. They always came back. Always. No matter how broken the machinery became, or how terrible the conditions were. They came back!” Flurry’s of silver spread around his shoulders and drift down, falling over the floor and the nearest tabletops. “And that lard of a boss! He never comes down from his office, not even during accident. I could only watch and wait and hate. You know what happened to him?”

“What’d you do?” Lewis asks. He raises up his own hand, but dithers from action. Lewis did set a hand on Vivi’s shoulder and began to draw her back, away from Fritz’s range. Vivi recognized the motion, the mannerism. Lewis was in bodyguard mode, and thus teetering on the offensive edge.

“Nothing,” Fritz rattles, a lightbulb fixed to the line cables on the table under him flickers. A silver lunar halo worked out around his poise. “Unless you count paranoia. Worry. I wanted him down in that factory.” The ice spreads close to Vivi’s toes as Fritz’s eyes brighten, until his eye sockets are shimmering white. “Down there with the rest of us playing in hell fire. But no. He dies in his bed, a stroke. Warm in bed.” 

Lewis takes a short charge away from Vivi. Pink flames rolling down his back and from around his suit collar, the silver wisps creeping over the floor retreat at Lewis’ approach and sparks pop over the scorched frost. Fritz recoils backwards and hovers off the table in midair. “An illness heavily influenced by your presence, no doubt,” Lewis mutters. He glares up at Fritz’s shape as it melts away into the shadows. “I don’t hear you denying it.” But Fritz has already faded from sight, if not retreated far from Lewis’ harsh accusations altogether.

There comes no sign from Fritz, while Vivi stands beside the table waiting for indication to his direction or proximity. The blue beam of her flashlight ducks across and around the metal tables and shapes do scuttle away from the light, but none of them have the distinctions of the spirit with the noose. “Not very cooperative, is he?” Vivi said. When Lewis doesn’t move, Vivi asks, “Do you sense him? Lew?”

“What?” Lewis says, as he turns to Vivi with a bemused expression on his features. Vivi turns her flashlight on Lewis as he approaches, somewhat gliding between steps. “No, I can’t,” Lewis said when reached Vivi. “I can’t, but I don’t know if he can detect me wherever I am. Yes, I am more than uneasy about this.”

Vivi adjusts the straps of the backpack over her shoulders as she turns and walks along the worktable. “You won’t let harm come to me,” she reminds, with a look over her shoulder to him. “If our biggest concerns are random patches of ice appearing underfoot, then we don’t—” Her sentence cut off when Lewis shoved her aside, at the same time Lewis draws backwards in midair to evade a white flurry of mist that crashed between them. Fire swarmed from Lewis’ arms, cutting off the rising storm of white. 

The target had been Vivi, or both she and Lewis. Vivi pushed herself back to her feet from where she had fallen and whips around when Fritz appears, poised not far from her on the solid floor and glaring. She stumbles away as Fritz eyes brighten.

“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” Fritz sneers. The air crackles as silver coils roll down his shoulders and small flakes of white drift from his elbows.

“I am very sorry you decided taking your life was your best course,” Vivi retorts. “But you made your choices when you had life, and now it’s time you moved on.”

For a moment Fritz stares at the girl in the sweater, her breath misting as his ether seeps into the factory. “Since the factory was shut down, I have been content,” he states. “This is where I will remain. It is not a choice you are warrant to make for me.”

While Fritz distracted, Lewis swoops from the gloom with white mist and frost fluttering off his damaged sweater. Fritz is taken by the sudden collision, he doesn’t get but a short screech before Lewis has his hands locked in the bare collarbone of Fritz’s shoulders, and barrels the other backwards into the sharp side of a table. “There are still the ones that met with horrific accidents during your time haunting the factory,” Lewis hissed. His eyes sockets blazed magenta as Fritz struggled to pull out of grip and dissolve away, but Lewis forced him back. “They have no closure!” Vivi steps away from Lewis as the remains of the scorched sweater clinging to his shoulder and chest ashes and falls away, revealing polished bone and black death suit. A hot blast of flames gushed from the throat space, while a wild storm of icy flakes spiraled outward from the dazed Fritz. 

“I can’t help it if fire and ice don’t mix!” Fritz shrieks. As fire rose from Lewis cuffs, Fritz snaps his bleached hands onto Lewis wrists and struggles to rip the grip at his collar away. In life Fritz had been strong after working many long shifts with the inventory of the factory, but Lewis was pouring ravenous energy into Fritz’s insubstantial form. Fritz found Lewis was too tightly locked onto him, a revelation which forced Fritz to recoil back through the tables top until he had jostled Lewis’ hands. Flames bob across the tabletop chewing at leather and thick layer of grease, the foul fuel turns the flames black.

Free floating embers simmer around Lewis shoulders as he lifts up, into midair and drifts over to stand among the black smoke rising from the table, across from where Fritz had slunk down. “You should have left when it was apparent your presence was a menace,” Lewis said. He keeps the embers drifting around his shoulders, as Fritz sinks further beneath the table.

Vivi looked from Lewis to Fritz, and noted a tone of hesitance collide with Fritz’s skull. Vivi shivers and wraps her arms around her as the temperature continues to drop.

“This is no place to reside,” Lewis hissed, edging forward, the heart upon his chest maintained its steady tempo. Fritz spread flurries around his dark shape as the other ghost moves closer, white mist and frost creep over the scorched table and snuffs out the frail dancing flames that still clung there. Fritz’s eye sockets trail a silver wisp as he tracks Lewis’ movement, slow steps and pink embers approaching.

“Don’t pretend,” Fritz sputters. He diverts his gaze to take stock of Vivi’s position, huddled beside a table leg several feet away. “It wouldn’t matter what my activities consisted of after death, would it? I don’t hear you denying it.” When Fritz raised a white misted hand in Vivi’s direction, Lewis lunged on him snaring his ribcage in one hand and with the other hand Lewis pressed a blaze of pink fire onto Fritz’s swaying skull. Wild ethereal flames tear down the neck of Fritz, and Fritz claws at Lewis’ suit front while ice spreads frost over his own shoulders. Unable to escape, Fritz begins to rise into the open space above the table, and Lewis hang on as the rise higher. 

The sharp blows and ice do no visible harm to Lewis, but the volatile contact with a resistant ghost ebbs in Lewis as he gives a last burst of heat before unlocking his grip from Fritz’s torso and backs off. As Fritz draws back and begins to lower at a distance, Lewis keeps low and picks at the displaced ether and collects for another offense. Before Lewis could say more, Fritz had faded out of physical sight. There were a few apprehensive seconds as Lewis descends, keeping Vivi in his visible range as he waited for Fritz to make his presence known, but no undeniable evidence of the other spook was present.

Lewis didn’t like it. He glides down to the table Vivi had hidden under and kept his attention to the cold walls of the factory, the silence was restored but it was unnerving. He was so on edge that when Vivi stood and cleared her throat, he had nearly turned to her with one of the embers still lingering beside his shoulder. Vivi patted her flashlight with her palm, until the faulty blue beam shimmered through the scratched glass with strong clarity.

“Scared. You see?” Vivi said, as she fixed the glasses on her nose. “But I’m sure he’s watching still.”

“Yeah,” Lewis said, voice a little more than distorted. “You okay? From the fall?” The ghost drifts from the tables top, a vaporous shimmer of pink light trails after his eyes as he moves to place himself close to Vivi. As she rubs at her bruised elbow, Lewis raises his skull to scan their perimeter.

“It’ll be fine,” she answers, and walks away. “We should keep looking. I doubt Fritz has moved off for good, has he?”

No, he wouldn’t. Even Lewis could relate this bit of information. But another impression began to work in his musing, which discomforted Lewis by some good amount. Was Fritz aware they were currently searching for his anchor? Regardless if or not, Lewis decided not to bring it up with Vivi. They still had to find the damn thing, and that didn’t change the fact that Fritz had the foresight to hide it.

While Vivi picked up the direction of search, turning in the direction the office had been, Lewis kept his focus of the area. At any second he expected Fritz to race out or throw something the moment Lewis dropped his guard, but the other spirit retained distance. Fritz’s influence was not missed however, and as Vivi searched deeper among tables and the walls Lewis decided to bring up the issue.

“This may be a stupid question,” Lewis begins, as he and Vivi move along opposite sides of a long worktable. “But are you cold?”

Vivi stood up from examining the underside of the table, while rubbing her hand and fists into the thick material of the sweater she wore. The blue beam of the torch flashed over the tables corroded surface as she struggled to keep light on the area where she stood. Her breath misted as she nodded. “I know it’s Fritz,” she said. “I’m more worried about Arthur, ‘cause you know he never wears sleeves.”

One of the small embers that persisted to follow Lewis’ movement bobbed, as he gave a soft rattle. “I’d worry about yourself first,” he said. He tried to hide the conflicting unease in his skull. 

Maybe Arthur was in as much danger as Vivi was in, or maybe he was even dead or worse. Lewis doubted all of this. He followed Vivi as she led the way, ducking under the thin metal legs of scaffolding that filled the medium area of the welding plant. Large sections of curved metal, discarded inventory, sat between the platforms that stood around like tall sentinels guarding the unfinished and forgotten. Worktables persisted as a common theme for the factory, but in this section they were shorter and most lined the furthest walls around them. 

Lewis met Vivi as she followed her flashlight, out from under a slanted platform of fallen scaffolding. “This might help,” he said. Vivi hesitated from his arm, until she brought the flashlight up and revealed his arm and the dark suit coat clutched in his bleached fist. When she made no response, Lewis became agitated. “Mi arandano? Vivi?” his voice echoes and scratches, and he hates how it resonances when he’s trying to sound sincere. “Is this weird for you? I’m sorry, I –” he fumbles, withdrawing the suit from Vivi’s sight. Until she grabs it.

“No, oh no Lew, you’re fine,” she exclaims. Vivi steps away from the broken platform of the fallen scaffolding and moves closer to Lewis, her eyes fixed on the suit coat between them. Quickly, she glanced up to see where Lewis’ heart had been relocated, but found as always it pulsed on his chest. The only difference was that it was suspended against the stark white of his crisp under shirt, his dark magenta tie hung from his collar. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t know you could take your clothes off.” She smirks but doesn’t look up at Lewis. “Wow. Okay, that didn’t sound so bad in my head.”

Lewis makes a soft warble somewhere in him, as he takes the dress coat and drapes it over her shoulders. Vivi has some trouble finding the sleeves, the coast too big for her and the tattered sides where Lewis’ ribs tore through had nearly been on level with her shoulders, until the collar had slumped down around her neck. “This is so much better,” she said, as she adjusted the excess of sleeves over her wrists. “But will you be okay without it? I mean, I know you don’t feel the cold… or do you? But isn’t it a part of you? How—” She stops when Lewis put a finger to her lips, as she had done to him before.

“How about questions later?” he says, and he tilts his skull to examine the tall scaffolding and the ceiling overhead glimmering moonlight through the openings. “When we can talk.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and nods. She directs the flashlight to the floor and follows, weaving around the metal legs of tables. “Thank you, Lew.”

Lewis follows, careful to keep her within sight at all times. He tries to answer, but he forgets how. He knows Fritz is watching and only waiting for the moment when he is distracted. That opportunity would come and Lewis knows he will miss it when it is most crucial, and he is frustrated with the recognition that avoiding it is impossible.

__

An sudden eruption resounding out from the distance caught Arthur’s attention, at the same time he had his head up under a crumbling desk. A loud crack echoed and Arthur moaned as he fell to his butt and held his head with his metal arm and rocked.

Mystery draws back from where he was pawing at a bundle of filthy cloth, and looked up as the walls of the factory reverberated with the sudden wave of tension that burst in the upper atmosphere. The shutters in the high ceiling vibrate and dust, visible for but a brief moment in the moonlight beneath, scattered from the rafters. Mystery sniffed at the air and glanced off in a direction, certain he had caught some movement through whatever it was, it wasn’t there now.

“Guess Lew found Fritz,” Arthur muttered. He kept his eyes tightly shut, as if that would ease some of the pain. He already felt a hot little lump forming under his flesh palm. “Damn, that hurt.” He gripped the side of the broken desk, he picked up the flashlight that had clattered to the floor and redirected the beam on the space of the room he and Mystery were searching in. “I don’t think it’ll be here, bud.” Arthur turned the light onto a section of wall where graffiti had been written out – bulbous words, some colorful writing, and some pictures. Some tacky, some art, all of it evidence that living explorers had spent time an extended amount of time here at some point.

Very little of the remaining desks had survived the test of time, with no help from their visitors. Arthur had seen it before. Aside from the graffiti, which he had missed throughout the backside of the welding plant, there were few explorers that would risk to venture so deep, if they were startled off or creeped out by lurking specters. Evidence of a living presence would extend to a certain undefined line, vandalism, camping, but it would go no further than what was allowed by whatever was left behind. Some articles of clothing had been scattered in this section of the basement level, and the area in proximity had a musty reek far less appealing than the other areas that had been thick with grease.

Arthur walked along the path among the broken desks and discarded propane tanks, his yellow light crawled over the handles of the welding torches now rusted and hardly recognizable in their outdated appearance. A few goggles, rotting into the muck, survived to decay further into the tops of workbenches and crumbling racks along table sides.

Sudden movement caught his eye, and Arthur swung to it barely in time to catch the shadow as it ducked off. He quivered and kept moving, in the opposite direction. “No fear,” Arthur repeated under his breath. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be—” He gave a small yelp when from absolute silence, a faint clatter leapt forth. “Mystery! Was that you?” He pivoted to the dog close at his heel. “Tell me that was you!”

Mystery smirked and gave Arthur a dubious expression.

“I hate this so bad,” Arthur muttered, as he turned away. He raised his light and tried to get the yellow beam to ascend to the darker areas of the rafters above. “You know what? Why doesn’t he just hide it up there? That’s what I’d do?”

The small congregation of desks had fallen behind, and the floor opened up to a short span of concrete flat. The flat was boarded by the factory walls, and a large dark shutter that was open at the base by a small crack that allowed a frail wisp of pale light through. A distance across the open concrete floor awaited another series of steps that rose up to a garage style compartment, beside the upper floors of the front of the factory. 

Mystery stepped by Arthur and out onto the open cement floor, while Arthur became distracted with poking at a corroded cart leaning beside a desk. Another tremor broke the still atmosphere of the air, and Mystery with Arthur glanced at their surroundings as the echo faded. Arthur lost interest quickly, his hand snapped the torch down as movement caught his undivided attention. Mystery saw and detected nothing and thus resumed across the floor, snuffling and sneezing when too much dust invaded his snout.

“We can even do the expulsion without an artifact,” Arthur went on. He tried to toe at a cog on the floor, but the piece of dark metal was fused tight causing him to wince when he jammed his toe into his shoe. “I don’t get why we should waste our time.” He took a breath, and then moved his light across tabletops, and some discarded clothing or cloth. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll march right up to Vivi and just tell her, ‘This is a bad plan. I know you don’t care, but I do. We’ll just do the expulsion, artifact or not, and just do our best.’ How does that sound?” He jumped when a loud squeal tore through the air, a short distance from when Arthur had gotten lost in his musing. “Mystery! Mystery? Where are you?” He darts around the long tables, checking under a few before he climbed on top one and began leaping along seeking the source of the sounds. The torch failed his search, there was no sign of the white and black dog hidden within the gloom. “Mystery! If you get hurt, Vivi’ll kill me! Or… she’ll let Lewis do it, which would be almost as bad!”

After nearly losing his footing numerous times upon the tables, Arthur stumbled off and raced across the open expanse of the floor where the dogs whimpers seemed to hover. Arthur caught sight of the upper garage floor, and below his flashlight beam fell over the white face staring at him from the stairs base. Mystery whined when he locked eyes with Arthur, and tugged at his paw which seemed to be eaten by the lower steps.

“What’re you doing?” Arthur cried, as he dropped the light from the dogs face. He never liked the way those eyes glimmered behind those spectacles. One of Mystery shoes sat beside the dog, presumably the missing paw was also a lacking shoe and inserted into a hole. “You could get yourself hurt doing a stunt like that. You don’t wanna wind up like me.” Arthur stuffed the flashlight onto his upper chest and pinned his chin down onto the cold handle, he held the light steady as he knelt low and helped Mystery dislodge his foot. “Good, I was afraid we would have to operate.”

An annoyed look crossed Mystery’s eyes and he gave Arthur a low snarl showing one side of his teeth.

“Well, we didn’t, and that’s better.” Arthur took the little boot and tried to take Mystery’s front paw, but Mystery had returned his attention to the crack beneath the first step and scratched at the base. “I know you don’t like them, but you have to wear them here.” Mystery whimpered and took Arthur by the wristband of his flesh hand, and Arthur winced when his teeth grazed his arm. Mystery paid no mind, and guides Arthur’s hand to the hole. “What?” Another pitiful sound and Mystery paws at the thin opening and peers up at Arthur. “Well, okay. Hold on.” He holds the light in his metal hand, as he fits his fingers into the crack. He feels around and jerks his hand back. “What is that?”

Mystery leans up around Arthur’s side and tugs at his backpack. Arthur removes the satchel and goes for his tools, locating the chisel and hammer. Mystery takes the flashlight when it is set down, as Arthur rests on his shoulder and angles the chisel up into the crack and positions the hammer at its back. “To my right. Other right. That’s good.” He makes sure he has a sturdy hold of the chisels handle before he swats the hammer down. It takes some maneuvering and a few more taps, before he loosens a section of wet ice lodged within. It doesn’t register with Arthur at first, the air is frigid enough that it shouldn’t matter. He secures his tools then gives his focus to the crack and wriggles the chunks of ice out, and out slips a piece of cold metal “What is this?” Mystery sets the flashlight down, the yellow light angled to hit the side of the metal piece.

It’s a slender, molded metal with small decorations along the side, and a broken piece of wood extending from one end. Arthur turns it over in his hand, and sets his flesh hand over the icy metal and tightens his fist. Then it clicks in his mind. “Flare ups,” Arthur mutters. Mystery sits beside him, watching as he examined the odd piece of metal. “Accident. Fritz was blind. This… it’s the handle of a cane. It’s a cane!” His hand sprang open and he dropped the tarnished handle. Mystery waits, then, gives another low moan to Arthur. With a shaking hand, Arthur reaches out and takes the cane handle. “Blind.” He runs his fingers over the rust splattered side. “I forgot.”

Mystery moves to his feet and begins to pad away, one foot missing a shoe. At a few feet he turns to look back at Arthur.

Arthur heaves a breath as he takes up Mystery’s shoe and the cane and stands, he slips either item into his pockets before he snatches up the flashlight. “We’ll head where Lewis is,” he reasons. “Vivi shouldn’t be too from him.” Briefly, Arthur ponders the rationale behind this reasoning. “This is the worst plan ever. C’mon.”

__

Since Fritz had made his first bid of confrontation with Lewis, and failed, Fritz had hidden himself and left the only evidence of his influence as the constant biting cold that filled every inch of the factory. Or, every inch occupied by Vivi. If not for the cold it would be easy to forget that Fritz was still lurking, and where remained the constant question plaguing Lewis’ attention.

Every other comment or question Vivi directed Lewis’ way was missed, but rather raise her voice and snap his awareness back to their current task Vivi would reach to his wrist and tug on the cufflink of his shirt. Lewis would apologize, and Vivi would direct him to a space on the floor she could not reach or see. For Lewis it felt as if he was apologizing every minute but Vivi never made a comment. After some time it began to feel like the old days when he would get paired with Vivi, during the cautioned perilous assignments they would volunteer to work on and Lewis went to great lengths to do whatever was within his capacity, if only to save himself from the stress of worrying over her wellbeing. He was content to let himself fall into the illusion, even if it would turn out painfully short and the acceptance of his current state would hurtle back into him faster than he could brace for the unforgiving impact.

Vivi was staring at the forgotten portion of a plane wing, smaller than the big commercials jets common in the skies of the modern day. Lewis knew what she was thinking, but he made the offer before she could make the bid.

“How about I just slip through?” he said. He pushed on the side of the plane wing slanted beside the cinder brick wall as he walked along to the furthest side. “Stand clear, in case it _falls_.” He muttered, pink mist drifting from the front of his skull. He had a small suspicion if Fritz were to hide anything it would only be in a space where disaster awaited. The little ember that had remained his constant moon faded out as he sank into the rusted side of the plane’s wing.

Vivi moved to the opposite end of the wing, where Lewis would emerge if he searched all the way through. “Be careful,” she said, out of consideration and in part habit. She leaned over trying to shine her light into the triangular space between the slanted wing and wall, but there was insulation and various other musty remains spewing out from the ruptured side of the metal hull of the archaic aircraft piece. She shivered and pulled the suit coat tighter over her shoulders and adjusted the torch light between her palms.

“What _are_ you looking for?”

The sudden disembodied voice startled Vivi more than the speaker, and she whirled around to face Fritz as he stood a distance from the wall watching with hot white embers burning with mild suspicion in his skull. Fritz glanced to the wing where Lewis was preoccupied, then looked back to Vivi and seemed to frown over the lights in his eye sockets. “Answer me. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Vivi stumbled beside the wing, forgetting Lewis’ warning momentarily. She tried to answer the question as he began to glide towards her, but she didn’t understand how to phrase the answer. What did he think they were looking for? Vivi chokes on her voice when her shoe plants itself on a metal pole, which skids out from under her weight. She falls hard on her rump, before she has the time to take a breath Fritz is leaning over her. He snares Vivi by the wrist and jerks her towards his levitated skull.

“What do you think you’re looking for?” hissed the specter. Even dulled by the suit coat and her sweater, Fritz’s grip was like needles stabbing into her skin. As Vivi whimpers, Fritz recoils and swoops back and drops to his feet. He kneels and stares at her. “I don’t understand you kids.” The white mist frosts out over the cement at his sharp feet. “I consider myself a reasonable person. I stay here, I’ve made my choice. That’s what I need.” 

Flakes of flurries descend around where Vivi sits, trembling. A sudden wall of flames curls around her, blocking Fritz sight of her. Vivi winces, but the anticipated wave of heat does not roll off the writhing flames, there is only the cutting touch of the ice.

“I should have known better,” Lewis said. Vivi glanced over her shoulder to see Lewis drift down to where she had fallen. “I’m sorry, I let my guard down.” He stands with her in the flames and pulls Vivi up to her feet. The shimmering fire casts hues of red and pink over the bleached skull, the embers in its eye sockets are set on Fritz perched beyond the fire rippling through the black air.

Fritz watched the embers descend, his gaze dropped from Lewis and Vivi. “I think… I understand what you’re doing,” he said. “Or, what you think you’re doing.” Fritz raised his skull in time to see a broken ladder flung his way, though hadn’t the reflex to react before it smashed into his ribcage. The dark shroud scrapped backwards across the floor several feet through a bare space of ruin and metal legs, sparks raise around him shoulders from the metal ladder sinking through his insubstantial shape. In a flash he’s out of sight.

Lewis leaned over Vivi’s shoulder to murmur in her ear, “I’ll see if I can keep him distracted.” Vivi looked to the locket thrumming on his chest, its rhythm in sync with her own heart, warm and radiant and nearly alive. Practically living. “This is the last time he touches you. Promise.” Vivi reached up to touch the gilded heart softly beating, the fine cracks in its surface more notary than ever, but she stopped herself and drew her hand away.

“Be careful,” she said. This time, she meant it. She dashed from Lewis arms, and ducked beneath the thin metal scaffolding and broken platforms that had fallen in the decades of neglect. She pulled the side of the coat over her shoulders more as she looked back and saw rosy flames spill over Lewis’ shoulders and arms.

“Making that ceiling collapse,” Lewis said, and his skull swayed with disapproval. “Not a good call.” 

Fritz slips up through the ladder and rose higher still over the floor watching as Lewis lifts an arm engulfed in magenta fire. The silver wraith lowers down to grab at a propane tank hidden beneath a piece of plywood, and hefts the blackened container up in his arms. “Your lot insists on hounding me!” Fritz shrieks. The din of his cry causes the blue beam of Vivi’s flashlight to flare and dim. Startled, she puts her hand over the pale light. Too late, Fritz had already swung around and faced her location. “I stand by my choice and will not be moved!” He heaves the tank Vivi’s way, but the canister is knocked out of midair by a blast of fire.

As the tank crashes and rattles out of sight, Lewis lowers his arm from mid swing and lunges at Fritz. A swell of tall sparks ignites at his heels as he cuts the distance. “You’ve made some shitty choices,” he snarled, as Fritz hovers backwards through a forest of thin metal bars. 

Sheets of ice peel back off Fritz’s arms when the two collide. They tangle in midair as Fritz wrenches in Lewis’ powerful grip, before they drop. The frayed end of Fritz’s noose trails above his shoulder, and somehow Fritz managed to get Lewis under his grip before they crash into the base of a tilting scaffold. Metal splinters and a swell of silver flurries whirl about as Fritz claws at Lewis skull. Lewis scuttles onto his side as Fritz leans over him, silver frost ignites at the hostile ghosts shoulders as he fights. 

Stunned and with few choices presented, Lewis takes a gamble and frees his fists from Fritz’s bleached collarbone. He thrusts his palms over the noose looped around Fritz’s vacant neck and fills the gap there with flames, forcing Fritz in fear or ‘pain’ to tear away. Fritz glides sideways, out of Lewis’ range, and keeps moving back among the decrepit portions of fallen scaffolding. Briefly, the silver ghost is close to Vivi’s location, but his attention and senses remain locked on Lewis, while the dapper spirit rises and collects the dislocated shreds of ether still displaced in the atmosphere.

A puff of pink mist trails from Lewis’ skull as he lunged through a cracked platform, white globs of flurries sputter and disperse as he tore through the barrier cloaked about Fritz. Flames snapped and popped across Lewis’ arm as he swung out, slashing through the brunt of Fritz’s swirling mist. Frtiz recoils several feet as Lewis followed, cutting out chunks of the spiraling cold mist that struggled to remain in place despite the consecutive assault dislocating ether. White light engulfs Fritz’s skull as a whirlwind of ice spreads around his shoulders, the sudden cohesion forces Lewis to withdraw several feet and dip out of midair, his sleek tie followed his rapid movement.

Lewis felt his shape connect with one of the forgotten slants of inventory, a nameless mass of twisted metal which he perched upon. From the fading mirages of pink fire licking the ceiling, Fritz swept toward Lewis with frost crackling off his black and bleached collar. Lewis simply ducks and allows Fritz to cut in close overhead, and Lewis only needs to throw an arm out to swat one of Fritz’s legs and send the other spiraling wild sideways. Before the silver spirit could recover, Lewis lifts up and thrust an arm out with pink fire crackling over his sleeves. The blow knocks Fritz across his sharp shoulders and coupled with the speed, manages to throw Fritz several feet sideways.

Fritz tumbles downward hard through the slanted top of a plywood piece, splinters and dust raise with a gust of frost, but he manages to dip far over on his shoulder and skid onto his feet without flying too far from Lewis’ perch. When Fritz uncoils and rears, he twirls about and sends coils of silver ice spiraling from his shroud. The haze mists nearby surfaces with a thick coat of glittering powder. Lewis braces his arms across his skull and expels a swell of roaring flames from his suit and ribs, enveloping his shape with a halo of sizzling heat. The ceiling and walls are engulfed in twisting magenta and waves of mist as the ether rolls free, before the dark haze of shadows reasserts dominance over the frigid air.

Fritz pivots back and hesitates as the bright fires subside to their source, and through the fog Lewis zips into Fritz’s view with an arm drawn back and red flames swirling over his shirt sleeve.

Another shudder rolls through the choked atmosphere of the factory as Fritz repels Lewis fire with a collision of ice, and spins around to evade the following swipe of flames from Lewis’ arm. 

Throughout the hostile exchange, Vivi relocates to a better vantage point. She leans down beside a frigid cinderblock wall encircling the work zone, beneath the many thick legs supporting the remnants of a tall scaffolding held in place by cords and cloth. She holds her breath and tries to cough quietly into her sweater, as she took precious moments to watch and witness as Fritz ascends higher above Lewis’ range. Below, Lewis sinks lower, content with only watching the other spirit with the embers smoldering in his skull. In the pause to follow Fritz turns his gaze off, still searching for her. She keeps absolutely still, fearful any slight movement might catch the eye of the hostile ghost.

She jolts when a high pitched voice crackles out, right beside her. Though shaken she knows immediately what it is, and hastily reaches around to snap the walkie-talkie from the side pocket on her backpack. “Arthur. What?” she hissed. She peeks over the broken platform as much as she could, to view another burst of flames ignite on Lewis in response to Fritz’s sudden charge. She shields her eyes when the hailstorm collides with silver mist.

“Finally!” Arthur must have been speaking, but his voice cut out mid exclamation and the walkie-talkie Vivi held scratched. She caught the word “through,” before Arthur went on with: “I found – thingy.” It had to be the maelstrom of activity. At the distance she had relocated to she felt _safe_ , but obviously the ethereal reach of the two was further than optically estimated. She wondered if it was wise to set herself so close to Lewis while he was a raging inferno. After all, his sweater was history. An interesting observation she did make was that the borrowed dress coat felt much warmer throughout his outbursts, but there could be a multitude of explanations for that. She just hoped she didn’t spontaneously catch on fire.

“Copy. Good news,” Vivi praised. She tilts her head up as she moved across the open floor to reach the nearest wall, through her running Vivi struggled to keep low but her legs were aching from all the crouching and running. “Do you see me? Where are—” There was a sharp screech from the walkie-talkie in her hands, and Vivi winced down before she looked up. Surely Fritz heard that.

Fritz was thoroughly preoccupied by Lewis’ disruption, and she only hoped Lewis could continue on with it. It wouldn’t take a paranormal specialist to deduce that he was losing too much energy throughout the assault, and that could be the reason why Lewis would not pursue Fritz whenever he took shelter in the rafters of the ceiling.

“Holy shit!” Vivi could almost hear Arthur’s voice off the radio, as well as through. “Is – a Poke’mon battle, or—?” On the other side of the communicator Mystery yapped.

“Can you read me, Arthur?” Vivi thought Arthur sounded near to her side. It was difficult to see through the gloom and haze that had lifted, while flashes of pink and white crashed through the dark, blemishing the surroundings with erratic light falls. Her flashlight was nearly useless on her path, if the strong beam wasn’t the only reliable light source that kept her from stumbling over unseen metal and insulation. She maneuvered into the direction where she thought Arthur’s scream had raised from. “Art?”

“Over here,” Arthur called, not far from her shoulder. Vivi spun to the vague echo of his voice, as silver and purple light flashed across the factory momentarily radiating off the decrepit metal bars around them and stone walls. Arthur shielded his face as he and Mystery waved around to join Vivi beside a stack of metal beams. “I could hear this mess on the other side of the factory,” Arthur said. “Umm… nice coat by the way. It’s Lewis’, right?” Arthur lowers his torch and shields his eyes as another flash of silver spread like wild current, and a rasp of steam clattered through his head.

Vivi ignored his question, and angled her flashlight beam onto Arthur’s vest and chest. “Are you certain what you found is the real deal?” Vivi asked. She glanced down as Arthur rummaged in his pocket and produced a carved piece of metal with a splintered stick in its side. “Is that—” Mystery barked up at her, his breath momentarily visible as another crackle of sound and light swept upward.

“Mystery found it,” Arthur said. He pocketed the tarnished cane handle and glanced back as a metallic crash echoed, and the vague mound of metal and wood crumbed into a jagged mound. Arthur couldn’t identify what had happened, but Lewis was momentarily out of sight as Fritz seemed to glance around. Arthur lowered his voice, and indicated Mystery with a hand. “He might be onto us.” He nearly yelped when Vivi snagged his vest collar and hauled his around the metal legs of the scaffolding.

“Then let’s finish this,” she said, as she pulled Arthur with her. “It feels like there’s more energy flowin’ between them. If you’re right about this, then Lewis may be at a disadvantage. Anyway, he can’t keep this up forever and I don’t want to see him spent out again.” Once Arthur was moving with her smoothly, Vivi let him go and the three of them raced around the encrusted pipes and broken wood pieces that littered the floor. Vivi prayed Fritz hadn’t detected the disturbance, and she worried for Lewis. She couldn’t shake the sensation that she was somehow abandoning him. “ _It’ll work out in the end,_ ” she tells herself. “ _Lew knows what he’s doing. I have to trust him. That’s all I can do._ ”

Fritz swung his arms down, a wave of ice flashing from his tattered cuffs as Lewis came in too near and too quick. Lewis shook his shoulders as he glides backwards and removes the ice from his shirt sleeve with a flash of pink. His eye sockets blaze a vaporous trail, following the shimmering embers in Lewis’ skull. After the brief recovery Lewis lunged at Fritz with a right hook, but Fritz was able to repel the flame infused lash with a sudden wall of silver ice.

Silver flurries spun at Fritz’s shoulders as he swooped at Lewis, the frost at his collar expelled off his arms as he swung out to repel the other ghost to a more comfortable distance. Fritz formed a wispy barrier of silver around his black shoulders, thick flurries caught on his bleached ribs and suit as they drift through his translucent aura. 

“You think what you’re doing is right?” Fritz rasped. He slipped backwards through scaffolding legs above Lewis. The dapper spirit slows his pursuit and picks away from Fritz’s thinning silver mist, with the numerous embers that sprout at Lewis’ crisp white shoulders. The bright embers snap and sputter, mingling with the ice as Lewis moves closer to Fritz. All the while, Fritz struggles to maintain some distance from Lewis. “I don’t even know your name.”

As Fritz stalls and, Lewis notes, averts his skull to scan the floor, Lewis hisses, “You’re afraid of facing your family. That’s it.” Fritz glances up at Lewis, white flames dimming in their black sockets. “Thought so.” The embers draw closer to Lewis’ shoulders. Black smog rises from burning wood infused with grease, at the same time Fritz spreads ice below along metal pipes and the surface near the dapper ghost. But Lewis keeps embers drifting around his shoulders, as he detects Fritz’s resolve waver. The gilded locket beats with the seconds, near silent in the sudden calm. “You’re selfish for taking your life, and you’re selfish for making others join you here!”

Fritz expels thick frost down his dark suit, and flurries rise up to spiral around his bleached bones. He looks away from Lewis, and does not concern himself with the girl in hiding. A hot white flash and then the cold black. Why him? Why did it have to be him? Ringing. Dampened voices through wet cotton, he strained to hear but couldn’t grasp the words. Sometimes it was impossible to gather the distant world around him, once it had left him behind. Fritz returns the white embers in his skull to Lewis.

“You’ve stayed here too long,” Lewis says, extending a hand towards the silver mist above that sputters when his embers drift too near. The locket on Lewis chest thuds at its steady rate as Fritz glares, the silver spirit’s mood remains unreceptive. “Don’t you think you’ve allowed yourself to become corrupt? You became something you’re not. Don’t you believe that’s possible?”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Fritz’s voice scratched, and broke.

Lewis’ flames diminished, his human face appearing briefly over the magenta mirage of his jawless skull. “You indirectly caused accidents,” he said. Silver ice cascaded out from Fritz’s form, shredding through Lewis’ few bobbing spirit flames.

“You don’t know that!” Fritz dives down into Lewis, crashing his sharp shoulder into the others ribs as silver ice misted around the two spirits. Lewis hadn’t the chance to recover when Fritz swung around, and his shirt collar was snagged in Fritz’s grasp as he slung Lewis upward.

Lewis managed to recover, embers shot from his shoulders as he righted himself and turned his feet towards the ground. Lewis was high up, too high for his sake, and he was working to descend carefully. Even as Fritz launched himself up, with silver waves rolling off of his bleached ribs. Lewis caught onto Fritz’s rapid approach, but hadn’t the chance to react or evade. The only vision he could latch onto was rolling flames, gushing outward, off his soul and cascading through the dark, scorching all nightmares and pain. Burn it. Expel it! Away! Get AWAY!

The interior walls flood with wild fuchsia, bellowing flames chewed into the rafters and broiled across the tables, waves of fire ravaged the floor in withering heaps. The torrent slammed into Fritz when he was mere feet from Lewis - volatile fire tore through Fritz’s insubstantial mass, before the jarring sensation released him and he plummets.

Fritz crashed to his knees dazed, noose dangling down the front of his bare ribs. He hovered in the floor as Lewis continued his slow, rigid descent. Fritz managed to get his bearings and pull himself into a semblance of memory as he turned once more on the dapper spirit— But halts. Lewis glares at him, but Fritz seemed to have detected… something amiss.

Then Lewis feels it too. An uncanny pulling, a sense of calling. Vivi? At first he is alarmed and confused by the sensation, a cold knife of fear jammed into his spine as he searched over the scorched machinery and tables when realization hit him. Where was Vivi? He was too low to adequately look for her, which amplified his horror. Until he happened to glance back on Fritz’s way, the other spirit remained indifferent to his gradual approach.

The heart Lewis carried still quivered hard at his chest. He let his feet settle on a shattered platform of a low scaffold not far from Fritz’s current position. Fritz hovers where he had stiffened, gazing off to the medium ward of the factory. It takes a bit of pondering before Lewis decided he knew what it was, and yet it didn’t put his senses to ease. He was further distressed when without warning, Fritz faded out. The air was still frigid and a white mist fought to cling where the other spirit had occupied, but Fritz had vanished.

Not for good.

Lewis took one last glimpse of the area, the scorched and iced walls of metal and brick. Though he knew Vivi was not here, he felt leery of moving anywhere now too quickly. But he didn’t know what would happen, if the others would be with her. If Arthur would be reliable.

The allure is stronger as Lewis glides through the factory, darting around and over walls and any or all obstacles that dive into his path. He can’t discern if it’s because he’s nearing the source, or if due in fact to the nature of the source. The sensation itself almost unnerved him, it was strong and compelling and he was not even the receiver of such a distortion. It was that familiar dislocation, of being in two places but only experiencing a sense of ‘between’ the two. Was this what it felt like to feel compelled to the call of the other side? The compelling nature of what was beyond? Lewis wouldn’t lie but it did terrify him. Somehow it did. It wasn’t the unknown that petrified him, but the realization that she would not be there. A sense of alone. Of going away for a long time and losing someone special, but you are the one that was lost.

A soft voice came from above, and Lewis glanced across the floor to the mishmash of concrete beneath the office apartment. Everything sounded all right, and despite his misgivings the air felt calm, collected. He could hear Vivi’s sweet voice reciting Latin prayer, but the sense of yearning ruined it.

Lewis ascends the steps and crosses the floor, to the broken and twisted window frame. He can see inside better now after Fritz’s tantrum knocked out some of the glass, and a new display was set out on the floor. Vivi sits behind a circle with something atop, some sort of metal or wood. New candles flicker and burn, chasing shadows around the room while Vivi held a tattered notebook on her skirted lap. She still wears his suit and while the sleeves still seem to give her some problems, she doesn’t appear bothered and remains fully focused on reciting the last rites. Mystery sits beside her, on another figure of circles and symbols, one of Mystery’s boot paws is on Vivi’s hand, the other paw lacks a boot and is on a small circle drawn in graphite beside his haunches. Of course, there’s Arthur surrounded by a circle of salt right by Mystery. Additional marks and candles decorate a small perimeter around the cluster, and Lewis can only stare and detect the pulling sensation in his core. Calling. 

Given the mood of the room, Lewis decides to remain outside and observe. It would be better if there was an off chance of Vivi losing concentration due to his abrupt appearance. He would be better off outside. 

The words come, recited as Vivi presses her hands upon the circle surrounding the lost possession. Lewis had never been good with Latin, but the enunciations flow like unwanted attention through him. He tries not to listen, and focuses on the ruin of the collapsed ceiling behind the group. There stands Fritz Owen, glaring down on Vivi as she delivers her notes. Fritz hasn’t taken in Lewis presence yet, and Lewis gathers a strange glitter working over and down the spirits insubstantial shape. Like silver beads crawling in and around his ribs, and glimmering on the noose tied over his tattered suit collar. Lewis briefly wondered if he could still hang Fritz by that rope, or if it would pass through the vacant neck space. Fritz’s shape flutters, it was a span or blink of a moment, and Lewis suddenly sees Fritz’s eyes wavering in the dark pits of his skull.

As the glitter of dew continued to constrict Fritz’s shape, Lewis can almost see the flesh that once cloaked that face, and the scars that once bridged across his eyes. It was only the candlelight mingling with the black tatters of the suit, because Fritz couldn’t be trembling. Fritz was ethereal ice, cold and selfish, he couldn’t permit a range of emotions beyond that.

“ _I’m afraid,_ ” the voice whispered. Lewis can see Vivi chanting, Arthur shaking. The voice. He knows that voice, and Lewis looks to Fritz as he stands there fading and brightening like a star forgotten in a pit of midnight. “ _I’m afraid,_ ” the voice says over and over, and then begins to repeat. “ _Won’t let you. I won’t let you._ ” Lewis felt flames burn up his shoulders as Fritz raised his arm, silver flurries flutter from his palm as he reaches towards Vivi’s neck. No one has taken notice to the presence behind them.

Arthur, President of bad timing, glanced up when the window across the room shattered as Lewis leaned in. One of Lewis’ arms was partially obscured by the wall, the other was in full view as flames erupted from his shoulders and shirt collar to swell under the low ceiling. Fritz does not look as horrified as Arthur does when the flames sweep across the room, but Fritz nonetheless received the full force of the feral inferno and stalls, hand inches from Vivi’s blue hair. 

Vivi did glance up at Lewis as he recoiled from the expulsion of red fire off his shirt sleeves, but her concentration doesn’t break. She fumbles with a clear bottle and opens it to sprinkle water on the tarnished piece of metal. The bottle is set aside and Vivi takes the sage to wave the coiling mist over the cursed handle, and spoke a few last phrases and the final rites of passage in Latin.

Behind Vivi, the glimmering beads spreading over Fritz’s suit ignite, engulfing the dark cloak of Fritz’s shoulders and the brilliant fuchsia embers still swirling about the stunned spirit. Fritz tilts his skull down as a silver mist coats his translucent shape. The shimmering haze thickens, then evaporates in the next instant and there in its space is nothing but cement walls and wavering candlelight. The spirit of Fritz Owen was gone.

A last echo resonated within Lewis as he drew himself back from the wall and shattered window. The pull is gone and he is all right, shaken in a wistful sense but he is still there. Lewis gathers himself and moves away from the window, and the deep hole below it.

As the silence crawled through the dark shadows beneath the candles reach, Arthur, Mystery, and Vivi looked around as the heat from Lewis’ fire dissipates and the air finally begins to warm naturally. Vivi gave a small gasp when the broken cane became discolored, swimming from grays and gold, to blues, then white. The marred texture of the handle became translucent as its owner had so formerly become, and melted within seconds into a small puddle over the gray symbols.

“Whoo!” Vivi slumped over Mystery and onto Arthur’s lap. “Lew, you were great,” she said, winking at Lewis as he crept into the candlelight from the broken doorway.

“Great?” Arthur choked, slipping his arms under the weight of Vivi in his lap. Mystery squeezed away from the two and gave his fur a shake. Arthur goes on, a little emotionally, “We were almost barbequed! That was fuckin scary! What up, man?” Vivi made no effort to help Arthur lift her, he struggled with her weight alone.

Lewis dithers within the doorway and shifts back, to glance out over the expanse of the factory and prods at the stillness of the air. Obscure and disembodied clatters linger, the building restless after the recent eruption of spontaneous activity. The dull thrum of his locket comes rapid, stressed and taxed and sympathizing with the cold factory. It seemed equivocal. Different, though he couldn’t describe why. 

“Fritz,” Lewis answered, when he recalled Arthur’s questions. “He was trying to stop the… ritual.” Empty would be a good word for it. Lewis stepped more into the candlelight as Arthur gave one final struggle to put Vivi back upright, the task made harder with the loose suit slipping around her shoulders. The candles that had not been knocked over when Vivi flopped over blazed cheerily along the walls without the obtrusive blaze of the cold lamp. Lewis kept his distance from the marks set on the floor, and stared.

“You okay?” Lewis asked.

Vivi hums a confirming sound as she leans on Arthur. “The exorcism always drains me,” she says.

Lewis keeps silent. He only looks up when Mystery moves over to stand beside the runes drawn onto the floor, and Mystery sits down staring up at Lewis, ears twitching before they pull back and flatten. “This night… is it even night anymore? It’s been wild,” Lewis said. He takes a step but doesn’t move any closer, and instead turns to look out the broken window while one hand absentmindedly fumbles with his loose tie. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Finally,” Arthur praises, raising his arms over his head. “The best plan yet this evening!”

Vivi nods as she moves herself to not weigh down on Arthur’s bad shoulder anymore. “Agreed,” she says. “Lew, can you get the lamp before we forget it? I’m sure it only needs a battery.” Vivi picked up her flashlight and plucked up the dish with the sage, but left the sage to burn out on a slab of cement. “Art, get the candles?”

“Hold on,” he said. He sticks his own flashlight in his back pocket, the light stabs up into the cracked ceiling and leave scattered sheets of the pale yellow curtain to slip over the harsh darkness of the room as the candles continued to flutter and sizzle. He swings his backpack aside, away from their work area and the newer lumps of cement, and begins digging inside the bag. 

Mystery detaches from the group to pace around the room, examining the walls for anything missed, small crevices and cracks in the floor or ruble that had no genuine interest but served as a means of distraction as Mystery waited on his companions. 

Arthur fits a thick brush to his foot and as he begins blowing out candles and letting the wax dry, he scrubs at the graphite on the floor with the rough brush on his shoe. “So, you think definitely the exorcism worked?” Arthur asked.

“Had to,” Vivi responds. “If not, we’ve done all we can. The rest would be up to Fritz.”

“I know it did,” Lewis adds. He hands Vivi the lamp and she returns his suit coat. With the factory no longer manipulated by Fritz’s sway it was almost uncomfortably warm; further evidence of the spirit’s inarguable departure. Lewis watched as Vivi stashed the electric lamp in her backpack, before she resumes packing the other supplies away. “It feels… different around here now,” he said. He turns away from the others and found the sensation was awry to him, even to his deeper essence. But whatever imprecise trepidation it was, it slowly faded like an overused memory. 

Arthur watched Lewis pensive gaze, as the lights of the candles were snuffed out one by one until only the bright magenta hair and eyes of the skull were visible beneath the scarce light of the flashlights hovering around them. It’d been awhile since Arthur had seen Lewis’ skeletal appearance, and Lewis absent of his large coat looked odd. Less intimidating, somehow. Casual skeleton Hauntdays Arthur decided. “Well,” Arthur began, trying to sound light, “if the exorcism didn’t work, then you probably scared him off anyway with the crazy pyro effects.”

Lewis made a soft crackle in his chest, but didn’t turn to the others. The locket, his cherished heirloom, pulsed softer and softer as he and it kept each other company. A last echo range in Lewis’ essence, “ _I’m not ready_.” 

While Vivi and Arthur pick up and clean up their work, Lewis does not help. He can’t. The impression Fritz had left in him, a dreary promise void of words and conveyed through a heavy resonance. Lewis wouldn’t pretend he understood even the minimum of what was in his capacity or knowledge, but he knows what he felt. Fritz had sent a very potent yet rarefied warning.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Their task complete with the reclusive Silver Ghost, the Mystery Skulls move onward in search of a new mystery to solve. The group glides through the motions of normality, but how far from normality have they strayed? How far can a wire be pulled tight before the tension causes it to snap?_

##### 

Sometimes There

There was no way to return the mangled cigarette tin, but Vivi had made Arthur take them back to the Owen’s residence to give them a brief report of their encounter with the spirit of their relative. None of the events of that night were mentioned, and Viv had only made the family aware that Fritz had been remorseful about taking his life and was now in a better place. There was one decent picture of the few taken, and Vivi was not about to share the one of the noose hanging from the ceiling. The family seemed accepting of the stories about the Mystery Skulls encounter with Fritz, but it was tricky to tell with most people and their outlook on paranormal research.

It was unfairly early in the morning to be on the road, though in all honesty Lewis didn’t care. Throughout the night Arthur had been driving nonstop, and had only survived on a steady supply of energy drinks and pop rocks carefully rationed by Vivi. Vivi was convinced Arthur would suffer a heart attack if he didn’t slow down, and Lewis had considered the mien as an entertaining subject piece to dwell over along the hours of road time. As of the beginning of the trip Lewis had yet to volunteer to drive, but he was giving the matter some heavy consideration.

Lewis could perceive that the air was cool, maybe too cold for bare arms. The sunlight in the cloudless sky made a difference if it was possible to stay out of the shadows, and the unwelcome breeze. Lewis had opened the back doors of the van and lay in the sun absorbing the warmth through the incorporeal swarm that consisted of his shape. Arthur had parked away from the more populated side of the busy convenience shop, and truthfully Lewis didn’t give a damn at this time if someone became curious to his appearance. Most of him looked human, that was enough. What business did anyone have to bother him during his siesta? Lewis relocated his thoughts away from the persistent noise of traffic, engines constantly in motion of come and gone. Some of his solidity, his consciousness and his memories, prickled through his foremost awareness. He held no accurate relation to the description, but only knew the sensation gave him a swell of invigoration that would be essential later. Solid, present, existing. That’s what was important to him. Lewis needed that.

“Don’t catch the van to fire,” a sweet voice chimed.

Lewis slammed back into his current space of occupation and tilts himself up, nearly gliding through the floor of the van as a figure of blue came into his vision. He looked at his shoulders where the pink ember flames had suspended and bobbed under the guidance of his swaying form. Lewis waved the small orb away, before pressing his palms into the floor of the van and pulled himself up into a sitting position on the bumper.

“No harm done,” Lewis said. He looked at the large item of black leather Vivi carried over her arm. As if anticipating her future dialogue the heart on Lewis’ chest fluttered, as he inclined his brow behind the sunglasses. “Is that a leather jacket?”

Vivi nods, as she takes the coat by the shoulders and looks it over. “You’re gonna look like a dead greaser for a while, but that’s all they had in your size. And I thought it’d match your hands, that way you won’t look too odd. Maybe.” She flopped the jacket into Lewis’ arms, while he was distracted with the current state of his free floating palms and bleached bone knuckles. Lewis stood up and tussled the jacket over in his hands. “Try not to roast this off, K? You can go through walls, I think it’s safe to assume you can slip out of a coat like anyone else?”

Lewis noted that the coat was still much larger than he needed it, but even without it zipped up the tight leather hugged close to his sides and there was nothing that could be done about the ribs. “It’s fashionable,” Lewis says. “I love it.” Vivi straightened up the collars and patted the pockets over before zipping it up.

“Arthur’s not back yet?” she asked, as she turns to check around the open parking lot. A few travelers were out fueling their cars, and a group of kids followed a taller man into the front of the store. Of a blonde haired young man and a white and black dog, no sign thereof.

Lewis shuffled aside over the asphalt as Vivi pushed by to crawl into the vans back. As she rummaged around, Lewis fiddled with the locket beneath the thick black pocket of his jacket. The jacket looked awful zipped up as it was to his crisp white collar, but it looked twice as awkward if his suit was showing underneath. He made mental note to not let this go and maybe remedy it later, as if he had a choice. 

“When did Arthur and Mystery become so close?” Lewis asked, in way to distract himself. He gave up on the locket for now, and peered into the vans interior as Vivi slid the ice chest out. The ice box was heavy with water so Lewis hefted it out and carried it to the side of the parking lot where the grass tore through the eroded concrete in desperate yellow clumps. “You were the one that found him.”

Vivi nodded, and bounced up to sit on one of the cement poles that bordered the road around the convenience mart. “I sometimes wonder myself,” she said, with a sigh. When was it exactly, she tried to recall but those memories were dim and painful. A crashing, whirling blur when the world was engulfed in dry brittle scabs, and so many tears dried into shoulders and bed sheets. She remember the smell of the hospital clearly, anesthetic and the tinge of rot. For a long time Vivi had accepted that the smell was saturated into Arthur’s soul, and no amount of washing would cleanse it off. Some days it was hard to get off to see him, and she made excuses not to visit. It was horrible of her. But she defended by convincing herself she didn’t know what to do, her presence was damaging to Arthur in some way. She thought Arthur had hated her for making him go into the cave.

Vivi coughed as she swallowed. “For a long time he was really low,” she said, her voice rasped. “I thought it was his arm, at least, that’s what the doctors always said. I believed them.” Vivi shrugged. She moved off the cement pole, as Lewis lifted the drained ice chest and shook the container to remove excess water as he began walking with her across the parking lot. “It’s was awful. For a while Mystery was gone, just disappeared.” Vivi wrapped her arms across her chest and shivered, her voice lowered. “I thought that’s what he meant. He would mumble in his sleep.” Lewis stood with Vivi beside the van, ice chest slumped in his arms. “He would say, ‘He’s gone Vi. He’s gone. I’m sorry, god I’m sorry.’ And I knew it was the delirium, he was upset I’d lost my dog. We left Mystery in the cave and he was dead, and Arthur was apologizing for killing my dog while he lay in a bed half dead, arm ripped off, brain drowned in cocktail of morphine and antidepressants. I was so fucking stupid.” Vivi lowered her head down into her sweater and knit her fingers deep into the fiber of her sweater.

Lewis set the ice box down on the asphalt and grabbed Vivi by her shoulders when she began to sway. “Easy, mi arandano,” Lewis hummed, and pulled her around to sit on the ice box. He knelt in front of her and kept his hands clasped to her shoulders. “Don’t tell me about it. I don’t need to know anymore if this is going to hurt you.”

“I wanna tell you,” Vivi murmured. She shut her eyes tightly and fought back the tears, but a few managed their freedom. “You and Arthur never want to talk about it, but I do. I need to. You weren’t there! So you never saw him go through that. I wasn’t even hardly there for him.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the blue sleeve of her sweater. “I gave up on Mystery,” she said, voice cracking in her throat. “And I was giving up on Arthur. Each time I saw him, it seemed like I was losing more of him. I thought the less I visited him, the less he’d waste away. It’s stupid to think that, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” Lewis said. His sunglasses slipped too low on his face but he didn’t bother to fix them. He instead rubbed her shoulders, edging small coils of warmth into her trembling arms.

“One day I was visiting Art,” Vivi said. She reached out and fumbled with the collar of Lewis’ new jacket, and snapped off one of the tags still dangling there. The jacket itself looked fine on him, but his collar…. “That’s after when they let him out of the hospital, he wasn’t on suicide watch anymore.” Vivi swallowed when the words leapt from her. “I was ready to start shoving food down his throat – he lost so much weight. Everyday. Everyday he,” Vivi paused as she dried more of her tears and wrestled her emotions under some semblance of control. “Then out of nowhere, it’s Mystery. I couldn’t believe it. Arthur too, he had this haunted weird twisted look in his eyes, but he didn’t move. I think if he had jumped out of bed at that point it would’ve killed him. But there’s Mystery, somehow, I don’t care. I don’t remember how to move and I don’t recognize him, and I can’t believe it’s him. And Mystery hardly gives us a look, he just goes over to Arthur’s bed and set this little damp fluffy thing on his lap.”

As Lewis ponders a moment, Vivi takes another breath and exhales a hot moist breath laced with sorrow and memories she didn’t need. She rubs at her eyes and set her arms over Lewis’ shoulders and leans on him. “A hamster,” Lewis says. He peers at Vivi, who is now very close to his face. “Galaham?”

Vivi nods and manages a faint smile. “We were horrified at first,” she admits. “I thought Mystery had mangled the poor thing, but Arthur gave the hamster a quick look over and concluded he must’ve been born that way. It was the most he’d spoken in weeks.”

Lewis tugs his lips into a tight smirk. “A bittersweet ending,” he muttered. “No wonder I couldn’t get him to bring Galahad with us.”

Vivi sniffles as she stands up from the ice box, and Lewis stands along with her. “I think too Lance needs the company. Helps him feel close to Art, in a way,” she said. “But it would be hard keeping track of two pets.” Vivi taps the ice chest with her foot, and Lewis moves to pick it up and resumes following her to the stores front. Vivi does her best to scrub away the shreds of her sorrow but the effort is futile, only time would aid in that matter. It amazed her how invaluable time was to them all now.

The store is divided into three sections, with the gift shop and convenient store at the forefront, a buffet to the right, and the bathrooms along with arcade section opposite to the side of the buffet. Vivi led the way to the cold drinks and began selecting the purchases – a bag of ice, chilled drinks, and some packaged sandwiches – all went into the ice box. While Lewis carried the ice box to the front, Vivi selected additional none chilled goods along the way.

“Are we still headed towards that cursed interstate in the mountains?” Lewis asked, as they moved along in line. Lewis hefted the ice box onto his shoulder and balanced it there. He noted the older woman in front of them gave him an incredulous glare before she moved forward, out of his way. “Not that I’m scared or anything, but it could be a huge waste of time.”

“You saw the open tab labeling out the weather report,” Vivi accused, glaring up at him. “Didn’t you?”

“I am sorry, I am done with ice for a while,” Lewis muttered. He was going to say more but stopped prolonging the conversations and thought a moment. It was more than just being bothered by the cold, he just didn’t want to be reminded. He couldn’t offer Vivi his concerns, but an icy road and the rumor of numerous accident did not appeal to him either.

“You don’t like to drive on the ice,” a voice said behind them. It was soft, but had sternness to it. Lewis and Vivi turned to a wide man in a plaid red shirt and frayed jeans. “That road has a bad reputation. A lot of accidents. People use it anyway, and don’t care. It cuts the distance between Knoxx and Ruben by half, but the out of Towner’s don’t know how to drive on those kinda roads.”

Vivi straightened up to the man’s tall stature and his verbal cautions. “We know,” she said. She moved forward with Lewis as the line shuffled along. “That’s the reason we’re headed over there. My group’s gonna explore around, see if there’s an unnatural reason why all those wrecks are caused.”

“Aw really?” asked the man, squinting.

“Yeah,” Lewis said. He turned away to set the ice chest on the counter and opened it up for the cashier, while Vivi dumped her foods and bags onto the glass counter top. “Not just faulty road construction. Paranormal means. Weird energy, optical illusion roads.” He shrugged, and tilts around to address the friendly face of the man. “Who knows, maybe there’s a vengeful ghost hanging around?” The larger man slapped a hand onto Lewis’ back, and Lewis nearly lost his sunglasses when he jerked under the playful pat.

“You’re ghost hunters then?” the man said, chuckling in his throat. “How’s that working for you?”

“We’ve had worse,” Lewis says. When Vivi collected the change, Lewis hurriedly packed up the ice box and moves aside to allow the friendly man on by.

“Hold up a second,” the man said. He set a bag of jerky and a water bottle on the counter, and asked for a tin of tobacco. “I know a place ‘round nearby you might want to look at. Unless you’re in a hurry.”

Vivi shared a look with Lewis as they pause by the newspaper rack beside the glass doors of the stores entrance. “Well,” Vivi said, doubtfully, “we don’t just check out random places because of local rumors. There kind of has to be a lot of attention….” She trailed off, as the man in plaid pockets his purchases stepped closer to her and Lewis. He ripped open the bag of jerky and offers Vivi a piece, which she takes because they haven’t stopped for lunch yet and this run saw that they picked up snacks to remedy this. Lewis waves off the food offer, and the man dumps out a piece of jerky into his large, rough palm.

“Well, I am sorry to hear that,” the man grumbled. “The people that own the place didn’t want a lot of publicity. They have their own reasons.” He nods. Lewis and Vivi move aside as people stroll by and out the sliding doors, a gust of cool air sweeps in at their backs. “But trust me, this place is haunted. Or something’s there, something evil.”

“Evil?” Vivi questions, frowning. “That’s a heavy claim. And they don’t want publication, help? Do the owners even believe their home could be haunted, or is it just a local rumor?”

The man nods, and chews a bit on his jerky piece. “They believe,” he says. “They just don’t want word to get out, because then they’d have ghost hunters like you people by the place, but I think they could use some help. See, I told them I’d never post about the incident, but I never said nothin’ about sending people their way. Just don’t tell them I sent you.” He takes a bite of the jerky and chews.

“We won’t,” Lewis confides. Meanwhile, Vivi stuffs the whole jerky piece in her mouth and struggles to chew it. “So, what’s this problem they have?” he asked, as Vivi nearly chokes.

__

The location given by the overly friendly man from the convenience mart left Lewis more than dubious, but Vivi had already made up her mind once they stepped out of the stores front. They alternated giving Arthur the acquired information as he drove the long road up among the thin growth of trees and sparse clumps of brush, the road among the foliage was not old or forgotten, but pristine and new. A few vehicles did pass the van as it chugged on its way up, winding around narrow roads among the mountains, and slipping into the low bobbing hills that ruled the terra firma.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Arthur asked, every few minutes as he peered through the amber windshield of the van. In the middle seat beside Arthur sat Vivi, laptop on her lap and a few tabs still open since the time they had departed the convenience mart. She held a sheet of paper with horrible handwriting on its white page, with lines and tiny writing to identify specific landmarks. 

“Yep,” Vivi says, as she compares the ‘map’ to the bird eye views she had uploaded. “We should be reaching a… ah.” She set the laptop aside, by Mystery curled up in the passenger seat. “You put in a code to open the gate.”

“I know,” Arthur muttered, as he guides the vans window up beside the small keypad beside the road. A wall extended across the road, a short distance before them to either side of the thin tree growth, its décor sandy red brick. There was no way to drive around. “Did he give us a code?”

“One-three-nine-three-six-five-three,” Vivi answered. She heard the distinct chime of the code buttons as Arthur punched away, then a low buzz as the black steel gate between the red brick ahead of them swung open. “You doing okay back there, Lew?” Viv leaned up over her seat to check the darkened interior of the vans back. She swayed, gripping the seat at her side as Arthur applied gas and guides their transportation through the open gate.

“Fine,” the voice echoed, cutting over the interior of the metal walls. “Just peachy.” Vivi undid her seatbelt in order to turn around more comfortably and check on Lewis, who had lain down along the side of the vans wall facing the inner edge, his arms were wrapped tight over his jacket. His skull lay just in the inner side of his white collar and appeared positively inert from the angle Vivi was watching him from.

“We’re almost there,” Vivi said, as she slipped back into her seat. “If you plan to go in with us.”

There came a short beat. The van rolled along the smooth road between large homes built up and on miniature plateaus, with wild landscape and sparse cultivated foliage among the esteem neighborhood design. Each home was unique and bore similarities to rustic wood cabins with dark timber outer walls and spaces of grainy stone work.

Arthur winced when he picked up the soft movement in the back. “What was that address, again?” he asked, quick to cover up the sudden drop in his voice.

“Looks like it’s on the furthest side,” Vivi responds, again with the little ratty piece of paper in her hand. She looked up as Lewis peered over the bench seat. “Take this road here, and keep driving.” Vivi looked up at Lewis. “We’re you asleep?”

“Nope,” Lewis hummed. He slipped the sunglasses on and focused, assuring his nonphysical sense that he was maintaining his visible appearance under the jacket. Lewis leaned up over Arthur’s head to catch the sight of himself in the mirror before he settled back behind the seat and watched as they rolled through a bend in the road. “S’that the place?”

Vivi and Arthur muttered to each other, Vivi turned the paper around and pointed to the marks. “I think so,” she said, and looked up to the large home now rising into view. “Big house, huh?”

It wasn’t a house. It was a regal estate. A tall wall of red brick guarded the grounds, with a large black gate embedded in one side of the rocky wall. Down a ways from the larger gate, sat a smaller gate facing a semicircular sandstone driveway, situated off the main road that encircled the rest of the neighborhood; the guest entrance, most likely. Saplings dominated the yard, and a few of the larger trees had been left intact just beyond the main grounds of the modified landscape.

“Feels kind of like deja’vu,” Arthur said, as he leaned over the steering wheel. “Where should I park?” Vivi indicated to the side parking, beside the sandstone gate. Arthur kills the engine and leans back in his seat, as Vivi rummages around on the floorboard and collects her provision bag. “Maybe I should stick out here for once. In case the police show up.” He winced when Lewis flicked a finger at his good shoulder.

“C’mon,” Lewis encouraged. “If anything, they might tell us an interesting story.” Lewis ducked out of sight, and the harsh screech of the backdoors ignited as Lewis forced one door open. Arthur sighed, reminding himself to oil the gear if they ever got back. But he went along, and slipped out from the driver side door.

Once Vivi had roused Mystery and the van doors were locked, the group entered through the guest entrance in the smaller steel gate and moved up the long path to the front doors of the estate. The path was designed with large sections of rough dark stone, with gravel among the gaps. Vivi focused a bit on the sounds of their feet scraping over the gritty surface and Mystery claws tapping, the shuffle-scraping only ending when they reached the large entrance doors. To either side of the front patio, large pillars of wood rose up to the high ceiling of the underside of the patio. It took a few seconds for Vivi to find the doorbell hidden beside the doorframe, where Arthur indicated it.

“Have we thought about what we’re going to say?” Lewis asked.

Vivi shrugged, her rapid movement caused the items within her bag to crinkle. “We’ll just wing it. That’s a plan,” she said.

“A plan designed to fail,” Arthur muttered. He kept behind Lewis, before drifting to stand near Vivi and Mystery. He straightened up at Vivi’s motion, when the large front doors opened and a man revealed himself there in the threshold. An older man, with a red tinged hair and a mustache. He appeared in good health, lean but strong, a man of discipline or too much time on his hands. He peered at the group quizzically, before he spoke:

“If you’re here to sell something—”

“Oh no!” Vivi gasped, amused but not offended. “Ah… we heard you were having some… problems with an entity. A hostile spirit, or something unwanted in your home. If this is all false, let us know now and we’ll leave.” Vivi waved her hands with exaggeration, fearing the sudden denial that was working in the man’s visage. “But we’re a group dedicated to the paranormal, and we have methods for helping people deal with unwanted supernatural entities.” Her speech slowed down as she continued, gaping at the taller man as he stared her down. “We’re here to help and learn, we won’t bring unwanted attention to your home, and our services are free of charge. I assure you.” 

Vivi stepped back into Arthur as the man pushed the door open all the way and leaned onto the rich wood frame. The interior of the home was large and reflected much of the pseudo natural details of the homes exterior. Soft beige tile floors, a long rug in the main hall, walls splotched with ‘artistic’ paint texture, and deep gray light fixtures adhered to the walls between doorways and along the upper walls.

“Who sent you?” the man asked. Somewhere beyond the hall a female voice called, but the words were cut off by the walls. “Just a moment Harriet,” the man called back.

“No one sent us,” Lewis said. “A guy from the city got wind we were ghost investigators, so he told us about your place if we were interested. He made it clear you didn’t want any attention brought your way, but he managed to catch us while we were leaving.” Lewis looked to Vivi, and Vivi pulled the corner of her mouth back into a sort of humorless smirk. The man looked down at the dog, as Vivi went on:

“We also do debunking,” she said. “Trying to understand if the activity in a home is paranormal, or can be explained by everyday occurrences. We don’t actually know yet if your home is haunted, but we’d like to find out if it’s true and maybe help? We also have contact information of the college we work and researching with, if you want to verify us.”

The man looks back to her, biting his upper lip as he ponders. Finally, he pushed away from the door and extends his hand. “Come in then. I’m Sanders by the way. Sanders McHiggin.” Sanders shakes hands with each member of the group as they give their names. He stops when Mystery steps up, reared on his back legs with a paw outstretched up to Sanders.

“That’s Mystery,” Vivi says, pointing to the dog. “He helps with our investigations.”

After shaking Mystery’s paw, Sanders shuts the doors and leads the group the main hall and into the foyer. Steps lead up to a balcony and to the higher floors, a chandelier dangles above the first landing of the stairs, and above sun windows allow the bright light of late noon to fall over the carpet of the floor stretched across the room. “I didn’t want any of this story to get out,” Sanders said, as he leads the group into another doorway off from the foyer. It was a living area with armchairs, a large table with a cloth over it mid center of the room and a chandelier hanging down. “It’s bad for business. Bad for publicity. You can assure me none of this is going to go public? I warn you now I’ll press charges, kids or not.”

“It’s part of our strict policy. It assures the protection of the rights of those involved with our investigations, whether it be you or your ‘guests,’” Vivi did air quotes, and folds her hands over in front of her waist. “What about some pictures? Can I take pictures, I use them to identify a presence that doesn’t want to be seen.” She was already grabbing for her bag, when she spied Sanders shaking his head.

“The architect of my home is revolutionary style,” said Sanders, still shaking his head with his mustache pulled into a grimace. “Please be respectful of my wishes.”

“I will,” Vivi sighed. Sanders gestured them to sit in the armchairs set around the table, and the group does. Mystery leaps up and squeezes in beside Vivi and she scoots over as he settles to lay down over her thighs. Mystery looks to Lewis, and Lewis tenses before he folds and moves to the chair beside Arthur. The short exchange is missed by Vivi as she rubbed Mystery’s head, before addressing Sanders seated across from her. “Can you describe the activity that’s been bothering you? Your family?”

Sanders slouched back in his chair, and gestured his open palm to Vivi. “Where do I start? I’m not exactly sure what warrants your interest?” he trailed off, and set his hand back upon the arm of his chair and rubbed his fingers on the velvety fabric. “I think it started with the noises.”

The recount took a little more than an hour. For the first thirty minutes a member of the family would come into the social room and check out the visitors of their father/husband. It was a wife and two teens, and a teen in progress. After Vivi had written down some of the preliminary activity (in one of her trusty beaten up notebooks), and requested if it was all right by Mr. McHiggin if he could show them around, describe the activity in detail in what areas where it occurred. Sander’s agreed and led the Mystery Skulls around his luxurious home. Most the sounds Sanders noted came from the walls or the floors above, where no one would be normally if the family was out.

“It gets creepy when you’re home alone,” Sander’s noted to Arthur, as they stood side by side as Lewis and Vivi inspected a ‘small’ closet. “The kids will be off doing their thing, and my wife has clubs and I’ll be home trying to read and those noises start up.” 

The noises were scratching and a lot of banging, sometimes loud thudding.

“I used to call out people all the time,” Sanders went on. The group had located to one of the upper rooms, a family bar with popcorn machine on the counter behind the granite countertop and various sweet drinks and colorful bottles for punch martinis. The story with the room went that the McHiggin would be enjoying some together time, sometimes a few friends of the kids were brought over, and midway during activities an awful smell would fill the room. Horrible odors had become a theme after the sounds, and though the sounds were frightening and obnoxious on their own, the grotesque odor was more so. “They’d give me an entire list of possible causes, practically tear the house apart looking for the origins, and find nothing.”

A sink was behind the main bar, and Lewis had opened up the pantry beneath it to check the pipes. Everything was practically brand new but Sanders had made constant remark of how recent his home was and it shouldn’t be having these kind of problems. Sanders was stuck on traditional hauntings, Lewis noted. But that didn’t mean a newer home couldn’t be haunted.

“I know what sulfide smells like,” Sanders said. He watched as Arthur and Mystery poke around the side of the bar. “The house smelled like it for a while when the plumbing was first installed. Some homes are like that, and you just have to let it run out of the pipes. Eventually, it does.”

“Where does the smell usually come from?” Arthur inquires, as he peers down at a vent beside the bar. Mystery had leaned in low to sniff at the grate, but inside it Arthur shined his penlight he could see nothing, nothing save for the pristine silver metal.

“The bar,” Sanders answered. “That vent there. Once, a cat did get stuck in a vent during construction. And this happened in the winter time so we didn’t know about it until summer when it began to warm up. Yeah. It smelt worse than that.”

Mystery whined. That was really a terrible story. He nuzzled Arthur’s fingers as his companion gave his face a consoling stroke.

While Mr. McHiggin moved to address Vivi and more of her questions, Arthur stood up from behind the bar and called Lewis over. “The sediments in this area could make variations of odors in the pipes,” Arthur began, as Lewis stood behind the other side of the bar. “Even if they do have filters on water, the smell can still come up from the drains. It could be coming from the drains.”

“But it’s never come from the bathrooms,” Lewis reasoned. “And that should be where this smell comes from, right? It’d be kind of tricky if a selective cloud of smell just sort of wanders through the rooms.”

Arthur nodded. “You can get pockets of smell,” he said, insisting. “It depends on air currents and where the odor comes from.” He stumbled back when Mystery squeezed between his legs, to get around Arthur to Vivi and Mr. McHiggin. Arthur barked after the dog, cautioning Mystery to be more careful.

“We’ll wait and see,” Lewis said. “We can’t really judge this occurrence until we experience it, so it just remains an unconfirmed rumor.” Lewis turned back to the sink and turned the tap on, he peered down into the drain as the water swirled down into the little grate.

Next was a hall, where the family members had seen the creature. The apparition was described as a large wolf, as big as a bear at least, and the hall they currently stood within was not small but it had no trouble filling the sides with its shoulders. Sanders admitted he hadn’t seen it, so when his youngest son had emerged from his room, Sanders called him over to recount the incident.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” the youth, Alex admitted. He was a miniature version of his father, scrawnier with longer red hair settled over his ears and forehead. “It scared the piss out of me, and now at night I sleep with my brother. My dad doesn’t believe me.” He looked to McHiggin senior, and the older man laugher with an awkward cough.

“I never said that,” defends Sanders. “But your story was sensational, and you were hysterical that night.”

Vivi gave Arthur a side glance, then turned to Sanders. “Can we speak to your son a bit, alone?” Vivi asks. “If you’re comfortable with that?” She indicated senior and junior McHiggin with her fists, one hand held the notebook while the other clasped a pen. 

With some reluctance, Mr. McHiggin left his son to recount the story. “I’ll be in the entertainment room,” Sanders said. He pat his son on the shoulder as he strolled to the end of the hall and vanished around the corner.

The incident occurred three weeks ago, give or take. It was a week night and Alex admitted he hadn’t been able to sleep, but Lewis suspected he may have been entertained by personal activities while the household was quiet. The hall was the youth’s wing of the estate and Alex did confirm that one room was for video games and movies, while another was for exercising. Each of his siblings had personal computers in their rooms.

Alex left his room that night to investigate some obnoxious sound. It was well past midnight, and Alex suspected his brother or sister was creating the ruckus and would alert their parents. For some reason the light in the hall didn’t work, which annoyed Alex more than alarmed, he wasn’t afraid of the dark but they had reoccurring problems with the electricity lately and every time they called a repairman out, the problem had resolved itself. In the meantime, the electrician would cut power to certain areas of the home, and that interfered with the internet.

“I came out of my room and turned to go down the hall,” Alex said, as he indicated the area of the hall he’d been facing. He shuddered and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. Lewis stepped by, Mystery followed his footsteps as Lewis glanced over the walls and doors that had been fitted into the hall. “Light comes from the end of the hall, from the windows above the staircase. I couldn’t make it out, but I could see it was huge.” Alex’s eyes got big as he opened up his arms, pantomiming the size of the monster. “And its eyes glowed, and I could hear it breathing. I’m not making this up.”

Vivi quickly scratched down her notes and turned her attention back to the taller, young man. “We know you’re not,” she assured. “Did it rush at you, make any violent movements? Or did it just manifest and stand there.” 

Arthur looked up from her notebook and swallowed. Huge fucking bear/wolf. He could hardly wait.

Alex concluded his account, explaining the thing was only scary but it felt malevolent and it had begun to move in his direction. Slowly. Alex had locked his door and shoved his bed up against the door and slept in his closet that night. Afterwards, Alex persisted to share the room with his older brother, Peter.

Peter didn’t believe the account, but sympathized with his brother’s fear and never turned him away when Alex came to his room early in the night. But Peter had nothing else to say to the Mystery skulls group and kept scarce from their investigations. Vivi suggested they find Mr. McHiggin and see what else he had for them.

Quite possibly the most intriguing bit of information regarding the whole haunting, was the pool that had been left in the beginning stages of construction. Mr. McHiggin explained that the pool was to be indoor and connected to the sun room of the estate and went into elaborate detail about the design of the pools large room and the shutters, and on and on. Lewis found the construction difficult to imagine in its current stage, as it was only a large hole in the soil with the excavated dirt piled back from the sight to allow further freedom for the workers to maneuver around. From the appearance of the large sand mounds and dried out roots that had been shoveled aside by the bulldozers, Lewis could estimate that it had been more than a month since progress of the pool had ceased.

Poor Vivi was left on the top soil with Mr. McHiggin, while Lewis, Arthur, and Mystery dropped down into the soft sandy bottom of the pit to look around. Walls built of two by fours and plywood had been nailed up to prevent the sides of the loose soil from caving in, and dried river trails decorated what sandy walls were exposed, etched down into sloping pit. Tarps had been hung up and some sandbags left around to protect what progress was made before the pool was abandoned altogether. Lewis thumbed the ratty pieces of a canvas wall as he checked the sediment behind walls for evidence of soil distortions, or missed artifacts that may had been overlooked during the excavation.

“Remember that one movie you and Vi made me watch?” Arthur asked. He kicked at the base of the earthy wall and watched the dirt sift down over the toe of his shoe. “The one where they lived in that house and started digging a pool, and it turns out—”

“What is with you and recounting all the horror movies you willingly watched with us?” Lewis muttered. He turned to Arthur and crossed his arms over the black jacket stretched over his chest. Arthur looked afflicted by the comment or the tone Lewis used, and turns away. Mystery scampered over to Arthur’s feet and paced around his knees, staring up at the blonde as Arthur adjusted his amber vest. “I was thinking the same thing,” Lewis said. He averted his gaze from Arthur and looked back to the tarp and the side of the pool behind it carved with the thin river lines. “About the pool. It falls in with renovations on a home? Or digging in sacred ground and disturbing the spirits resting there. The story that movie was based on was inspired by true events.” Lewis checked the tone of his voice, trying to keep its echo warm.

“Oh, yeah,” Arthur said. He moved to walk away, but Mystery had sprung up into his shins then darted away. Mystery did this odd lunge and retreat, panting and returning to Arthur and trotting around his companion with his doggy smile stretched wide over his snout. Arthur made no comment to the dog, and Lewis only glanced between the two as Mystery continued his playful antics. “The soil smells weird,” Arthur said. “I don’t know if you can pick it up, y’know…. Anyway, it does, if you didn’t notice. Like metal. The geography for the region didn’t mention anything about ore sediments.” Arthur’s voice shrank as he moved away, Mystery keeping pace with him as Arthur hiked past Lewis and up the slope of the pool, to the shallower section. Mr. McHiggin was still talking, but the conversation sounded nearer to their current subject of interest.

“Do you believe you’re group can remove this… thing?” Sanders asked. He stood a few feet from the edge of the pool, hand over his brow to shield from the strong rays of the sun falling over them.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Vivi said. She began flipping through the pages of the notebook, checking earlier notes she had taken of more specific paranormal activity. “If it turns out we lack the tools, then we can give you the number of our college and they can find someone to help. A priest or some demon hunter.”

“Demon hunter?” Sanders exclaimed.

Vivi nodded as she propped the notebook on her palm and wrote into one of the pages. “Mostly they go around blessing places, expunging hostile energy in homes – not as action packed as it sounds.”

“The name certainly sounds exciting,” said Sanders, with a smirk spreading under his mustache. “I hope you can do the job though, since you made the trip here. And….”

Vivi smirked and finished for him, “—And you can stay under the radar. Anonymity is taken very seriously.” Before Vivi could speak further, loud snarling and barks came from the pools pit. She and Sanders whirled to where Arthur stood, now atop the pools side where they stood. Arthur gave them a wide eyed look, he was taken by as much surprise as they were, and glimpsed over the side of the pool where Lewis and Mystery were. “What happened?” Vivi nearly screamed.

Lewis had his hands out and was standing back from Mystery, where the dog had planted his feet in the soil and turned his teeth to Lewis. Mystery was firmly set glaring at his companion, teeth bared and deep growls rolling in his chest. Sanders muttered something neither of the group managed to perceive, while Mystery snarled and glanced from Lewis to the edge of the pool where Arthur stood. When it was apparent Lewis had backed off, Mystery returned to the side of the pool, the lowest edge of the entire perimeter, and tried to leap up. Mystery’s claws caught the loose soil and the dog could haul his body up, but his weight coupled with the loose soil sent him tumbling back down.

“I don’t know,” Lewis said, his dark eyes wide behind the sunglasses. “I was trying to help him out. He’s never acted this way before, he—” Lewis’ sputtering dimmed as he recalled, a time when Mystery had behaved like this toward him. And the dog had turned and ran away.

Once again Mystery threw his body up as high as he could muster and clawed at the sandy edge and nearly fell backwards, had Arthur not lashed forward and taken Mystery by his chocolate paws. Mystery scrambled up to join his companions, and Arthur hauled Mystery the rest of the way, his metal hand gripping the red collar in the process of dragging the dog up.

The vacant expression that crossed Lewis’ face was not missed by Vivi. When Lewis met her eyes she had that same resolute determination locked on her face, the same glower she had that night when she placed herself between Lewis and Arthur. “Lew, dear. We’ll talk later.” Vivi cleared her throat and turned to the befuddled Mr. McHiggin and forced a grim smile. “I’m sorry about that. For some reason Mystery doesn’t like his new jacket. Real leather, very expensive. Dogs are weird like that.”

Mystery padded between Vivi and Arthur, he turned his snout up and gave a low groan in the back of his throat. I am Not shallow, don’t make me look bad in front of the client! He snuffed at the air and gave his hide a shake, before he plodded off to check some of the foundation work left half-finished around the pools edge.

Arthur remained squatted beside the pool watching the direction Mystery wandered off into, and waited as Vivi and Sanders began to step away back towards the plastic coated and partially demolished side of the estate. As Lewis glides up to stand beside Arthur, Arthur rose to his feet and leaned towards Lewis. “What’d you do?”

A low rasping shrill came from Lewis, deep in his chest if Arthur was to judge. Arthur took a wide step away as Lewis whirled his face to him, his skin dimming over the bleached skull beneath but the face maintained its solidity. Arthur would have been impressed, if Lewis eyes’ didn’t look so piercing through the shades. “I didn’t do anything.” It came as more of a hiss and whistle than a voice, and it took Arthur a moment to decode the sound as Lewis stormed off in Vivi’s direction, pink flames flickering at his heels.

Arthur let out a lungful of stale air he had been holding, and reached his flesh hand up to rub at his aching shoulder.

There were a few final bases to cover, before the group took leave of the McHiggin household for the remainder of the evening. They had ample time to go over supplies and discuss probable remedies and logical explanations for the activity in the house. Aside from third party accounts recounted by Sanders McHiggin, only Alex and his older sister Rachel McHiggin had seen the creature. Paranoia was a factor to consider, and any sum of oozing shadows mingled with the rancid odor, whatever its origins, could account for witnessing a ‘monster’ in a dark hall. During the time spent in the van preparing for the night, none of the Mystery Skulls members spoke much to each other, that didn’t reflect the current case of interest. Arthur provided logical insight, Lewis gave his opinions, and Vivi used the laptop to make notes and assemble a strategy based on their findings and reported experiences. Mystery had stayed outside the van and as far as Vivi knew, he had taken a walk around the estates grounds.

“Don’t go too far off,” Vivi had called after the dog, when he had padded off past the open driver side door in silence. Vivi stayed slumped in the front seat, her legs slung up over the backseat, which allowed the sun to hit the screen of the laptop on her chest at full force. Vivi couldn’t understand how Arthur managed to sleep in the front seat, but she knew it was the most soothing method he had come by to sleep soundly whenever they stopped to rest. “We’ll try some holy water,” she said, fingers tapping swiftly over the keys of the computer with rapid _ticks_. “And the iron letter openers. If it is some sort of fairy entity, iron should dissuade it if one of us gets in a bind. But Mr. McHiggin did say it was none violent. I dunno if he knew what he was talking about.”

“How about some salt?” Lewis asked. He took the two letter openers from a side cuvee in the wall of the van and looked at them in his hands. They didn’t bother him, which was a ligament concern he had had. “Just in case?”

Vivi nodded, though Lewis couldn’t see it. “Better safe than sorry,” she said. “Little salt never hurt no one. “Until we see this thing, I think that’ll be our best course. It doesn’t sound too complex though.”

Lewis moved to the back of the van where Arthur sat, jolted, when Lewis moved up behind him. Lewis handed over the makeshift knives, and Arthur stuffed one into the waist ban of his jeans and tucked the second one into a backpack. “Vi,” Lewis said, as he turned from Arthur. Lewis didn’t want to see Arthur’s pitying gaze, as he spun around to face the front of the van. Lewis pulled his sunglasses off and gazed at the top of Vivi’s blue head through the shaded interior of the van. “About earlier. I… uh, about Mystery.” Lewis stumbled over his words, and struggled to keep his gaze from slipping behind him, back to Arthur. The locket on Lewis chest quivered, and Lewis was unsure if he could say anything to bring to light of what had happened and maybe why. He looked up to where Vivi’s legs hung over the bench seat, one of her pale blue stockings had a thin rip along the side and some blackened smudges. “Try and hear me—”

“Lew.” Lewis sputtered, his face dimming and briefly the skull was fully visible for a moment – skin gone, neck vacant, before Lewis recovered. Vivi pulled herself up to sit backwards in the seat on her knees and faced him, the laptop was set aside. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. And I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” she said, raising her hand when Lewis was about to huff out more words. Vivi lowered her head behind the seat and rested her ear against the covering. She could picture that hurt look on Lewis face, his dark eye sockets and the pink glow of those ember eyes within. Vivi spoke into the seats back, “I just want you to know I trust you. So… take some time and think about what you need to tell me. I’ll listen. Whatever it is, I’ll listen to you first.” Her fingers gripped her skirt tightly, and she didn’t want to think of the worst. She didn’t want to think that Mystery hated Lewis, and she may never know why.

There was a small space of quiet. A soft clicking sound, some noise made by the metal of Arthur’s arm as he fumbled with the zipper of the backpack. Then a scuffling and the faint scrap of ‘feet’ pacing away. Viv sunk down on the driver seat a little more and debated on moving back or staying where she was. Where had Lewis gone to?

“Oh hey, how’s it going?” To the new voice, chipper and male, Vivi snapped her head up. She whipped her gaze to Arthur, still seated in the back of the van and staring at her with that same wide eyed gape.

“Hey,” Lewis said. He raised his head as he fixed his glasses. No sooner were his shades in place, did Arthur and Vivi come pouring out of the vans open doors. He looked from Vivi then turned Arthur’s way with no vocal response, just turned the edges of his mouth down. He introduced Vivi and Arthur with as little to no emotion as he could muster, then faced the man before him. “We have a gig here. You are?” He shook hands with the stranger.

“Trevor,” said the man. “Trevon, but I like Trevor better.” Trevor was casually dressed in white khakis, a white shirt, and his hair was platinum champagne or some wild bleached color of canary yellow. The long sleeves of his shirt came down his arms and the buttons of his long sleeves wrists were undone. “These guys lasso you into some bogus job? I’d get going while you’re ahead.” Trevor thumbed over his shoulder, back to his van on the opposite side of the large parking road. “Let’s say it isn’t safe here.”

“We know,” Vivi announced. She stepped towards Trevor and folded her arms behind her back as she peered up at him. “That’s why we’re here. I take it you heard the rumors too?”

Trevor laughs, he laughs like he was told this awful joke that he came up with and still hated it when people repeated it. “Unfortunately,” he wheezed, before he gained some control over his breathing. “My group was the first to experience the weirdness. In fact,” he gestured to the front of the home, beyond the Mystery Skulls van behind the group. “I was collaborating with the landscape group digging out for the pool. Sanders tell you all the spiffy additions he wanted? That guy, he knows what he wants.”

Vivi blinked. “You mean to tell me, when the pool was first being dug out?” she asked, nearly incredulous. Vivi stepped back as Lewis walked by, toward the open driver side door.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” answered Trevor. “Everything was fine when we started. The landscapers, when they first began to dig – I was just around to rework the electrics of the house, since my company was the one that wired the place. Nice house, but these big places don’t pay right enough, they only look good in a resume.” Trevor chuckled and rubbed his hands together as if to warm them. “Sorry. What was I saying?”

“The pool?” Arthur prompted. He leaned back against the van, behind Vivi’s shoulder. “We kind of got that the pool was sorta the source of the problems.” Arthur gestured with his metal arm, and he noted with some irritation that Trevor had noticed his prosthetic.

Trevor nodded and shifted his footing on the pavement. “Yes, we must’ve stirred something up. Or they did, I was just rewiring that one side of the house – did he show you that mess? Never mind.” Trevor shook his head. “Yeah. Took’em about a day and a half to get started, then everything went bad. While we were on that side we’d get this stink, like something old and dead- but he’s probably told you? Right. In the house too? Thought so.” Trevor mirrors the nods that Vivi and Arthur give. “Then we start seeing shadows. A big animal, furry and sort of scabbed. We never actually see it, but we catch a glimpse of it moving around, and always when we get a face full of that reek. Ughh… I’ve had my share of bad rot, but that is something else.”

“In broad daylight?” Vivi asked, surprised. Mr. McHiggin stated that workers that came by to check the homes reoccurring problems had seen it inside, during the work hours of the day, but she hadn’t thought people had seen it outside the walls of the home during the day. Probably this activity was caused by intruders interfering with its territory.

“I don’t know,” Trevor said, and shrugged. “The other guys, working on the pool, they left. Took off. Then it was my crew, and whatever gullible spleen McHiggin could drag out to his place to keep working on that damn pool. Pardon my French. Anyway, none of them last long. They get wind of that hell beast, see it, and take off. Even my guys refused to come out here, so I would just come out solo to do the work and finish up what I can until McHiggin can find someone else to make progress on the pool.” He took a step back, as if the mansion had given him a stern look for spewing such slander. “Now I don’t hardly come out. Not after what happened.” He jammed his hands into his pants pockets and maneuvered around, walking away from Vivi and Arthur. “If you’re wise, you won’t stick around either.”

“What happened to you?” Vivi asked, twisting around to follow Trevor’s stroll. “Can you… talk about it?”

Trevor paused in front of the van, a few yards from the entrance of the gate to the McHiggin estate. He glanced towards the path to the large front doors, then back to Vivi and Arthur now waiting and watching curiously beside the grill of the van. He sighed, and took a half step to them. “I was working late one day, my last day,” he whispered, and moved in closer as Vivi tilts her head towards him.

__

Twilight, early fall when the days were still long enough but growing shorter by the weeks that ran by on the many busy, blurred days. Trevor stood in the quiet of the orange sun as he twisted wires and capped the raw ends with the bright bobs, then tucked the tidy ends back into the open breaker box in the wall. He had to put in long hours alone at the McHiggin estate, if he wanted to keep his workers and the other jobs around the city. It was too much work for one person but he had no choice, he could only curse under his breath and maintain his minimal focus on rewiring the outlets along the wall and avoid burning his palms too badly.

The plastic pinned over the ruined walls, torn out to make ready for the extension of the home and the one day completed indoor pool, crinkle in the soft breeze. It was spooky, with the location being as isolated in the way these big houses were up in the exclusive neighbors away from the ruffians and common folk. Trevor was a city boy and he didn’t like visiting the woods, but he supposed people liked this sort of thing if they could afford it. The novelty of independence.

He began coughing when he got a nose full of that stink. A thick salty fog that hovered around his head, and swelled down into the back of his throat. “Oh god,” Trevor gagged, as he released the wall panel and let it fall. He shoved his gritty palms over his nose and turned around, his eyes searched around as he tried to constrict his breathing. Where was it coming from? The air was so still, it couldn’t be a carcass. It had to be the plumbing.

At his back, towards the side of the pools many shoveled hills, he heard a low scratching. Not a scratching he realized as he listened, but a throaty snarl. Trevor turns, expecting some stray dog or a wolf, he does not expect the monster that is poised between the mounds of earth. He tried to make a sound, he chokes out a soft moan, but he could not raise his voice to save his life. The big thing, the hell beast, began towards the petrified mortal.

__

Arthur stared at the bandage wrapped around Trevor’s lower arm. It was fresh gauze wrapped tightly with metal pins in place to secure the cover, the faint tinge of red had seeped along the side.

“I didn’t think I was going to live,” Trevor says, as he pulls his sleeve back over the medical wrapping. “I blacked out by the door I think. Hadn’t made it inside. Dunno what made it release me, I must’ve had an angel watching over me that day.” Trevor gave a lop sided grin. “One of their kids found me later, near nightfall. My clothing was torn up but only my arm was maimed. Big paws prints, like some sort of bear. They called animal control, and the whole circus came out but nothing was ever found.” He turned away from the silent stares of Arthur and Vivi, and he moved past the front of the van and towards the large gate. “I wouldn’t stay here,” he says, over his shoulder. “As soon as my business is done, I am gone.” Trevor entered the gate onto the sandstone walkway and exited their sight.

Once Vivi was certain Trevor was beyond earshot, Vivi says to Arthur, “So, it is hostile.” Arthur moved away, returning to the back of the van. Vivi followed. “Wish Mr. McHiggin had warned us.”

Arthur shrugged as he moved beside the open doors. In the driver seat sat Lewis and when Arthur raised his gaze he caught the eyes peering over the sunglasses staring into the rearview mirror. Arthur stalled and gave a weak little wave. Lewis was silent. “You know how he is,” Arthur said. Vivi climbed up into the vans back and went for her bag, where Arthur had previously been sitting and stocking supplies. “‘I want no negative publicity, this’ll ruin me,’” Arthur grumbled, imitating a voice too deep for his meekness. “He has a hard time finding lunatics to finish his pool.” He nearly chortled. He rapped the metal digits of his hand on the vans bumper, and peered up at Vivi as he tapped out a shallow tune. “Who can blame him? The rumors are bad.”

“Still, for our safety,” Vivi said. She snagged her backpack and shoved it down over Arthur’s hand, to silence his sounds. Arthur gave her a mischievous grin as he snatched his arm away and hid it behind his back. Vivi turns from him as she pulls the straps of the backpack over her shoulders, and crouched on the short plush of the vans carpeted back. “I can’t believe he’s still living here if the things dangerous.”

Lewis leans around in the driver’s seat, and braces his arm over the chairs back. “It’s not like he could just uproot his family,” Lewis reasons. “The guy might be loaded, but he’s sort of tied to the house. Besides, he didn’t even believe that kid, Alex.”

“It still seems like—” Vivi cut off there, and smiled thinly Lewis’ way. “Are we ready then?”

Lewis tilts his head down and makes a motion with his hand, dubious. “Sólo dar la orden, arándano,” he rumbled. “We’re at your beck and call.”

Vivi shuffles closer to Lewis on her knees and sets her hand upon his bleached knuckles splayed loosely on the backside of the bench seat. “You are such a charmer, Lew.” When Lewis’ expression fluttered, eyes dimming behind the dark purple shades, Vivi tore away and bounced out the back of the van. “I’m STILL pissed at you, though!”

Arthur staggered back as Vivi flew by, and was nearly smacked in the chest by a rogue knee. Arthur twisted his eyes back to Lewis, who had taken on a bright sheen of fuchsia as spirits flames sprout around the black collar of his jacket. A crackling mist and embers flicker from Lewis neck, and the space behind the sunglasses blaze against the dusk sun still gleaming through the windows. Arthur sprang up in place and backpedaled from the doors, before a flash of flames swiped at the ceiling of the van. Arthur swore Lewis was breathing fire. There was fire at his lips and in his throat when he shrieked something unintelligible, by Arthur’s impression the sound hadn’t even come _out_ of Lewis, it leapt from the scratchy static of the radio as the van lurched into temporary life. 

Vivi waited on the other side of the van casually, as Lewis had his moment. She let her hand rest on Arthur’s bad shoulder when he joined her, and they waited in silence that followed; for the last of the sun to shrink out of sight and replace the cinnamon coated sky with violets and blues, as a multitude of glittering stars began to prick into existence above them in the dark blanket cast by the sky. 

It wasn’t long after that Lewis found the nerve (or strength) to lock up the van and offer an apology to Vivi. The apology had no definition, no origin, it was just an apology Lewis felt Vivi had warranted, and for the time she accepted it. It was a temporary fix, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of MSA fandom stuff that inspires content and material for the chapters I'm writing. If you post something MSA themed on tumblr, there's a high chance I saw it and thought "I can see that happening," and thus it winds up here.
> 
> I wanna thank all the people out there that write, draw, or simply post headcannons. We've come up with a lot of juice from just a 4 minute music video, and I'm uber happy Mystery Ben is so involved with our obsessive shenanigans.
> 
> AND THE PROFILES! LANCE IS A WARRIOR DWARF!! MY WORLD IS SLIGHTLY INCONVENIENCED! BUT I WAS WAITING!
> 
> ##### I WAS PREPARED!!!!1//!!


	11. Chapter 11

##### 

Hunting Haunt

Just like the old days, back when the routine was set and finely grounded so the needle of the Record Player never diverted from its long coil. Round and round they went, and always they found the suitable end to a goal and returned smoothly to the center of the long coil to carve a little more down the spiraling lone line of the turntable.

Not this night though. The lights in the foyer were off, the McHiggin’s family having turned into their own rooms for the duration of the evening in order to let the Mystery Skulls work undisturbed. A thin line of light scuttled at the base of a sizable door, which Lewis recalled led into a dining room. Briefly, he wondered if Vivi or Arthur were aware they could be heard.

It wasn’t some big secret that Arthur was still uncomfortable when left alone with Lewis, they just hadn’t taken had the time to address the issue properly. When Vivi returned from locating Mystery, she had announced the groups division for exploring the McHiggin estate. And Arthur, as discreet as a panic infused amputee could be, had dragged Vivi off to have a small ‘talk.’ They might’ve been out of earshot behind a door and in another room, but Lewis was listening nonetheless. He didn’t know if he should feel offended or hold some small slither of pleasure about the mess, but that wouldn’t benefit him either. Lewis turned to Mystery and found the red eyes gleaming in the dark, those eyes glimpsing Lewis and then to the thin glimmer of light on the floor where Arthur and Vivi were discussing. 

When the two finally emerged Arthur was compliant with Vivi’s decision, and slipped a rolled up piece of paper into his back pocket as he approached Lewis. 

Under Vivi’s suggestion, the McHiggin’s had locked all doors to the rooms that they did not need investigation. The halls were left dark but Arthur found some comfort in identifying where each light switch was as they explored the halls of the lower floors.

They had walked in near silence since they left the foyer, taking a side hall that led through the elaborate construction of a wing of the estate with ornate natural wood lining the walls and lamps dangling from the ceiling. It might’ve helped if Lewis made some sort of sound when he moved, a definite and natural sound. Instead, the spirit had hovered, and there was only a faint flutter as the air moved around his substantial shape following Arthur’s lead.

Little by little Arthur found he couldn’t stand the suppression of the silence, and he cleared his throat by a miniscule bit before he spoke. “A few people have seen it down this hall here,” Arthur said, as he inched around the corner to view the large and long length of darkness presented. It seemed massive in the absence of light and he so badly wanted to reach over and flick the switch to release the brightness imprisoned in the bulbs. He turns his torch along the walls and the tile floor, but he doesn’t want the beam to escape to the furthest end. 

What if it was there, waiting? The light would hit the big scraggly hide of that monster and its eyes would glow, it would take one large step before it began its approach. What would he do? Arthur could turn and run, he could run like hell was on his heels. But it might catch him. If he took his eyes off it, the thing would rush at him and tear into his back.

Arthur backpedaled when a sudden crack echoed, the faint sound was made thunderous in the open air of the hall. He slammed into a sturdy mass that recoiled from him, before it steadied itself and placed a solid set of hands on his shoulders. Arthur locked up.

“Steady,” Lewis said, pushing Arthur away. Lewis had set his feet on the floor when Arthur collided with him suddenly. “It was just the house settling. We’ve heard these kind of sounds before, remember?”

“House settling,” Arthur whimpered. He moved out of Lewis grip and forced his stiff hands to set the light back onto the floor where it shimmered over the glossy tile. “A creak. Got it.” Arthur continued forward and he could hear the tentative sweep of air coasting over Lewis as he followed. Arthur said something else but he wasn’t entirely sure what he had blurted, and Lewis made no comment on it. _Hope it wasn’t important_. Arthur raised his light to look into the decorative domed interior of the ceiling that curved outward, above the intersecting hall they moved through. “Feelin’ a little homesick?” Arthur asked. He just needed to break up the silence or he’d start rambling nonsense again. And Mystery wasn’t here. “The halls remind me a little of your mansion, but not as rundown. I liked the suits of armor. Y’know, when they weren’t, er….” _Okay, time to shut up_. Arthur twitched when Lewis spoke up:

“Not really,” Lewis muttered. “I liked my place better, after all, it was raised to reflect my inner self-image, more or less.” Lewis brought his feet to the floor and took a step to calibrate his pace with Arthur. “But I wouldn’t call it being homesick. You can’t really be homesick for something that wasn’t there. Could you?” Lewis’ tone sounded uncertain. The yellow light of Arthur’s torch flashed, startling Arthur when the beam pulsed.

“I guess I wouldn’t,” Arthur murmured. He edged around the corner. He noted Lewis kept his distance from the wall and peered around the side as well, but that was due to the sunglasses he was wearing. Arthur twitched when he realized the sunglasses didn’t matter now in the house, Lewis’ eyes were blazing right through the dark plastic and trailed a faint line of magenta light as he moved. “Lew. Your eyes. Um….”

Lewis drew back from the corner and stared at Arthur, expression unreadable even with the thin haze of light between them. “Oh. Thanks.”

Arthur didn’t understand the toneless response. Lewis said no more, he just turned and walked away. Arthur decided to just follow and not mention it, unless someone came across them while they were wandering.

The hall ended to the large barn style doors that opened into the vast garage. The doors had been left unlocked, Lewis tried them and pulled one door open enough that he and Arthur could look in. Within the vast open cement there were a few cars, some bikes, furniture covered in large sheets. Arthur had moved away, unwilling to enter within, and Lewis shut the door. 

They returned to the main hall that they had entered from, and continued walking by the large portraits of scenery hung on the walls, and a few doors that opened up into another hall or a study. Arthur would get anxious whenever Lewis paused to check the handle of a door, and Lewis would call Arthur over so he could shine his light into whatever gloomy room had been opened.

“You’re sure you can’t sense anything?” Arthur had squeaked, creeping away as Lewis shut the last door of a short hall. “That should be a given, right? Shouldn’t—”

“I am no more aware, than you are,” Lewis had cut in. “You and Vi just gotta get used to that, I don’t have the answers. And if I did, I probably wouldn’t be able to go over them all. Ever thought of that?” Lewis pinned his arms behind his back as he walked ahead, leaving Arthur where he stood. Lewis stepped between adjacent low standing wall segments, and stepped down a short series of steps onto a sunken sitting area. He turned to face the direction the armchairs were facing, a large window in the tall wall. “Maybe you should check in with Vivi, see how she and Mystery are doing. Let ‘em know you’re okay.” He didn’t look back, but the pause was long and extended. It became stale within seconds. Lewis focused on his locket thudding timidly within the tight jacket he wore. The house was kept comfortably warm, but to him it was still too chilled for his preference.

The walkie-talkie crackled and Arthur’s rough voice called in. There was a small exchange of information, Arthur letting Vivi know they hadn’t seen anything, hadn’t heard anything either. Vivi mentioned that Mystery had taken an interest in some of the vents, but there was no whiff of the smell she could get. The conversation ended unceremoniously with a dry bark of the communicator. Lewis was not paying attention, he hadn’t refocused when Arthur began down the steps behind him.

“We’re not even getting paid for this,” Arthur had muttered. Silence came out of nowhere, and Lewis began to wonder if Arthur had seen something and frozen up. He was about to turn, when Arthur asked, “What’d you do?”

Lewis was baffled by the inquiry and spun to Arthur, and was nearly startled by how close the other had gotten to him. Lewis knocked over an armchair as he leapt away, the sunglasses fell onto his chest as he and the chair crashed over onto the soft carpet of the floor. Arthur stared down on Lewis as the flames washed over his skull and the bleached bone was revealed. Lewis lay there, legs propped over the side of the armchair. He wouldn’t look at Arthur, he focused on a point of the wall segment that encircled the room from the hall at their side.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” Arthur gagged, when Lewis had settled and realization knocked into Arthur’s head. He ducked down beside Lewis. “You okay? I didn’t— it wasn’t my intent—” When Arthur had reached out to take Lewis by the arm, Lewis wrenched his arm back and held it away, and would only motion for Arthur to back off. Throughout this Lewis had refused to look at the concerned face knelt over him, and only swiveled his skull further away from Arthur’s gaze.

When Arthur was a comfortable distance from him, Lewis raised himself and set his feet onto the floor. Lewis turned away and pushed the armchair right side up, but Lewis remained where he stood with his hands gripping the stiff fabric. “I yelled at him,” the voice rasped.

Arthur frowned. He didn’t quite hear and he asked, or tried to ask, what Lewis meant.

“I yelled at him,” Lewis repeated. He pushed away from the armchair but still, he refused to turn his skull to Arthur. “I think, I threatened him too. If being upset is threatening, I guess it would count,” Lewis said, voice scratching his enunciation.

“Just… upset?” Arthur said, trying not to sound accusing, or anything that Lewis might attribute to hostility. _Vivi will think I’m all right. I just called her. But I’m okay. Everything’ll be all right_. If Lewis had been facing Arthur, Lewis would have seen the color drain from his face.

But Lewis didn’t turn around. Arthur heard the distinct sound of a zipper, but it was difficult to decode Lewis’ motions in the dark while his torch was directed down on his heels. “I was more than upset,” Lewis admitted. Arthur could feel his own heart throbbing in his chest and hear it, the tempo pounding between his ears. As if— No, that wasn’t all his hearts ruckus. It was the locket. Arthur couldn’t see it but he could hear it. Was Lewis looking at it? Why? Arthur felt uncomfortable, as if he had stumbled into something personal and shouldn’t be here to witness. “I didn’t hurt him, I couldn’t,” Lewis went on. “I just… yelled at him.” 

A soft crackle lifted, barely concealing the soft click of a metal pin. Lewis pivoted to face Arthur but didn’t look at him, Lewis instead stooped over to pluck up the sunglasses from the floor. “If someone sees me,” Lewis murmurs, as he spun the folded up shades between his dark fingers, “say something random. Like, the chickens are drowning, make them think they’re dreaming.” He tucked the sunglasses into one of the breast pockets of his jacket and popped up the collar, which concealed a small portion of his vacant neck. If he tucked his skull down into the collar a bit more, that might work too.

“You mean you can’t—.” Arthur said, as he raised the torch to light Lewis’ chest as he zipped up the jacket. “I’m such a fuck up.”

Lewis cocked his skull and frowned, but it looked fearsome than intended with the way the light blotted the hard contours of his skull, and portray a vicious scowl. “Let’s just keep moving,” Lewis says. “Vivi wants some progress over our ‘magical reconnection experience’ before dawn. Eh, hermano?” Lewis glides by Arthur as he twists around to follow the ghost as he ascends the short steps and alights on the higher floor. 

“Wait!” Arthur choked. “You heard us?”

“The interesting parts,” Lewis admitted. “You and I should probably sit down later and have a merry old fashioned heart-to-heart. Eh? Oh, c’mon Arthur. Where’s your sense of humor?”

Arthur hopped up onto the higher floor with a soft plop and he turned to follow Lewis into the hall, his flashlight guiding his steps and following the pink embers Lewis kicked up. “I dunno bro,” he hissed at Lewis’ back. He pushed his flesh hand into his back pocket and felt the rolled up sheet of paper still there. "I had the impression humor was meant to be fun for all." Arthur drew himself back when Lewis had paused to spin his skull about to glare over his popped collar, down on Arthur. There were no further retorts when Arthur attempted to match the glower, and he felt a small coal of satisfaction burn in him when Lewis had resumed his silent glide.

__

Their route began on the stairs that rose up to the higher floors, and Vivi had decided to check in the hallway where the kids rooms were located. Alex and Lela McHiggin’s had both seem the hound beast but in separate locations, Alex had seen it in the teens and Lela had encountered it at the opposite end of the home at the base of some stairs that that connected the two floors.

The walls were decorated with family photos, and a few tables were set along the carpeted halls with some decoration or statue, or a living plant on it. Vivi tried a few doors as she followed Mystery’s pace. Of course, most the rooms were locked but some opened into hall closets or a study, she even found a library.

“Nothing. No sound, not even a smell,” Vivi grumbled. “Huh, Mystery?”

Mystery padded along the hall, going from one wall to the other as he sniffed along in a zigzagging pattern. He stopped to look back at Vivi and shake his head, then resumed sniffing. He came upon a particular spot on a wall and snuffed at the carpet and the wall.

“Find something?” Vivi knelt down and pulled Mystery back by his collar. Before looking at the space of the wall, she gave Mystery’s powder white coat another examination with her flashlight and just went over his shoulders and sides. Mystery wriggled out of her grip and moved close to the wood panel. “Sorry. Focus, I know.” Vivi angled her light onto the wood and the carpet but found no indication of disturbance. She ran her hand over the polished wood. “New home. New pool. It’s such a shame.” She stood up as Mystery padded off. “The activity might settle down once the pools completed. There’s no guarantee, but it would explain why it doesn’t want the pool to be completed. Unless….” Vivi trailed off, knuckles pressed under her chin as she concentrated.

A hall opened in the side of the wall and cut through to the next hall, where the parents wing of the estate was. To one end of the large hall was a large stained glass and a statue with flowers, an intricate little display where the light of the moon hovered somewhere in the sky as a melting glob. The hall curved in a weird way, then hit a corner and kept going straight. It was an curious layout, and Vivi just followed it as she could, checking doors quietly as they were presented. Most in the parents wing were locked, one door opened into a huge bathroom with a Jacuzzi style tub and a large sauna shower. Vivi was startled by her own reflection when the light of her flashlight caught the mirror, and she stumbled back from the door.

“I hate it when I do that,” she growled, keeping her voice low. Mystery whimpered, and pushed the door shut with his shoulder before he walked off. “Thank you for saving me from the fiendish mirror,” Vivi said, tone flate. Mystery’s response was to yawn and make a high pitched whine sound in his throat. Mystery pranced on ahead, but then stopped dead in his tracks and stared. Vivi stumbled to a stop just at his tail and looked up, she didn’t need to raise her flashlight. “Oh shit.”

At the end of the hall was a dark lump that was indistinct from the distance that it had parked. The hall was not as large as the kids wing, which seemed to emphasize the creatures impossible size between the walls were it stood making it seem as though it had huddled down. Amidst the black mass a pair of green lights glimmered out, fixed on the two. Vivi stepped aside to the wall but there was no light switch, only at the two ends of the hall. She kept close to a desk and turned her light on the creature and found the face where the lights blazed, and a set of thick black lips pulled back over large white teeth. Then the smell hit her.

Vivi shoved her sleeve to her face and coughed. “Ergh. It’s like burnt popcorn.”

Mystery growled in his throat and took a step forward. The beast thing hissed and shuffled forward. Mystery hesitates and pulls back, to press his shoulder into Vivi’s knee. He pushes into her, beseeching movement.

“Hold on Mystery,” Vivi mumbled, through the sleeve. “Stay calm.” Vivi pulled the straps of the backpack off her shoulders, and rummaged through for the iron letter opener and a vial of water. “Why are you here?” she asked, as she fixed her backpack over her shoulders. She took the container of water in one hand and kept the letter opener in the other, and began to take careful steps toward the creature. The smell was bad, but not so much as she neared it. “Duid est tibi nomen?” The hound beast took a step and as it neared Vivi, she flung the container in its direction and emptied the contents.

Mystery gave an alarmed bark, just before the creature let out a loud snarl. Vivi turned and raced after Mystery, who bounced in place but had not taken off yet. Mystery began running when Vivi caught up to him. “Turn here!” Vivi said, pointing to the hall across from them. “Keep going!” Her heart pulsed, she could hear the heavy thuds of feet charging after them. The demon hound snarled at her back as she picked up pace, twisting and charging up the next hall that Mystery darted down.

The hall ended, the walls around them open up into a large room above a staircase. Mystery only pauses at the top to ensure Vivi was keeping up, and thereafter Mystery waited until his companion had managed down several steps before he followed. Vivi dragged her backpack under her side and stuffed the letter opener away, then dug inside the sack until her finger curled around the familiar plastic shape of the walkie-talkie. 

“Guys! Come in!” Vivi called into the device. She turned her gaze back to the top of the steps, while her heels slipped on the tile steps under her descent. Above the creature had restricted its movement but its heavy paws were flashing in the moonlight, the silver beams slung down through the row of windows above them. “We found it! We found it and it’s chasing us! Where are you?” Vivi released the button and twisted to the banister to her side, she swung up over the rail and dropped to the floor on the other side and kept running. Mystery squeezed between the poles of the rail and leapt off after her. Rapid barks were called out by Mystery, waning Vivi to keep moving even as his paws whirled under him before he managed his traction. Viv had slowed when she caught the dogs struggles, but renewed her stride the moment Mystery caught up.

The walkie-talkie crackled and Arthur’s voice shot through. “Really? Wh—” He cut off, or seemed to be listening as the low crackle bubbled through the speaker Vivi held. Arthur said, somewhat distant from the receiver, “Where do you come up with these bad plans?” Arthur’s voice cut out when he released the transmitter on his radio.

“Is that Lewis? What’d he say?” Vivi checked over her shoulder as she entered into a hall, the darkness swooped around her and Mystery as they departed the moon splashed windows. The torch jiggled over the walls and a desk as Vivi checked her path, then she turned and checked what progress the hell beast had made. It had just departed the end of the staircase and was turning to charge into their direction.

“He wants to come to you,” Arthur answered. A pause, and that low static hum punched into the audio. “Where are you?” The line cleared once Arthur released the transmitter, and Vivi barked through:

“No! We’ll come to you!” She and Mystery slowed when they came to a corner, two halls intersecting into opposing directions. The hall must’ve looked different in the day, even if the sunlight couldn’t reach these isolated patches among the estate. Everything looked different, the air felt different, but at least the stench was left behind with the ragged monster. “I don’t know where I am!” Vivi croaked. “It’s dark, I—” She reached over and tried a light, but the switch didn’t work. 

Mystery orbited her, his ears revolving over his head as he kept track of the thudding and panting of the beast as it raced at them. He moved further from Vivi as he sniffed at the floors and moved closer to one of the nondescript halls they faced.

“Lewis thinks he can— Lew, wait!” Arthur’s voice cut off.

The sharp barks startled Vivi, but she instantly recognizes Mystery’s tone. Vivi directs her light to the white pelt, and Mystery is already motioning the hall with a slight bob of his head before he trots ahead, a few encouraging calls echo around his tapping claws.

“Are they this way?” Vivi pants. Though she can hear the rasp of the hell beast catching up, Mystery only keeps ahead of her. There comes no response of the dog, his bright fur captivated by the keen beam of Vivi’s flashlight. A crash came, and Vivi spun around to see that the creature must’ve knocked some desk over or something, because it was still racing and had not stopped but it did sway oddly as it ran. Mystery darted up to the doors as they appeared on either side of the hall, but the doors that Vivi managed to snatched the door handle of, either opened into small rooms or were locked tight.

Mystery dashed through an archway and Vivi charged after, not yet aware that she had gripped down on the call button of her walkie-talkie throught this time. Vivi focused on keeping up with Mystery, who had a knack for leading his charges in the most beneficial direction. Was Mystery leading them to Lewis? Or was he aware of a safe place that the creature could not follow? She panted as took a chance to look back, and see that the beast had caught up and was only three paces behind them. When Vivi had looked back they were running through a long bend and exited out into a sizable room, the kitchen.

It was made of numerous pantries up and down walls, large windows that the moonlight cut through to carve out the faint details of a stove on one wall and a large granite countertop center of the room. Mystery leapt atop the countertop and scrambled, his claws unable to find purchase as he tore to the furthest side of the room. Vivi followed in a similar manner, her light catching the stainless steel light dome above as she skimmed across the same countertop Mystery had slipped over.

Vivi stood on the other side of the countertop and turned to the creature, now defined better in its close proximity under the cool silver coating of the moon. It was indeed a creature coated in rough scabs and thick black fur, its forearms huge and its teeth twice as big. It snarled and reared up, its large paws came down onto the granite and it wobbled there. Vivi spun away and took the closest door to her right, ignoring the barks of warning Mystery had given from the opposite side of the room. Vivi cursed her impulsiveness, the door was an entrance into a section of the kitchen for food preparation and ovens, and some large deep sinks. There was only one other exit across from her, but when Vivi dashed to the open door a large black muzzle sliced into the beam of her light. A startled shriek leapt out of Vivi as she propelled herself backwards, hitting the side of the sink as she whirled away. She shot out of the door she had entered from and raced across the room, whizzing by pantry cupboards and a wood carved vine bar. 

On the other side of the room, Mystery was up on his back legs at a door, his forelegs fumbled with the door handle until the knob spun and Mystery flopped forward. He turned his face up, amber glasses slipping sideways on his snout as he gawked up at Lewis standing in the threshold. Lewis gave the dog perched on his knees a double take, before his skull tucked back the instant before Vivi collided with him.

There was a loud crash that might’ve awoken the family, followed by the quiet. Quiet, aside from the bellowing groan of the wolf beast howling in the kitchen.

Vivi clung onto Lewis coat as she reached her foot out behind her and shoved the door shut. From beyond this door came strangled snorts and gurgles as the creature struck the heavy wood, pawed and scratched at the barrier between it and its victim. Eventually, the sounds faded and the quiet came back to evaluate the situation at hand.

“Sorry Lew,” Vivi mumbled into his tie. Mystery was whining, sandwiched somewhere between Vivi and Lewis, he had yet to make an attempt at freeing himself.

Lewis, who had his hands propped up beside his torso, lowered his arms to Vivi’s shoulders and raised his skull out of the edge of his white suit collar. He made a sound that might’ve been an attempt at a sigh, but his chest didn’t move. “Did it hurt you?” he asked.

Vivi pressed her face into his tie. “No.” She waited but Lewis said nothing, he just held onto her. Soon, Vivi realized she was listening to the steady thrum of his locket and had her face pressed into his magenta tie. She pulled her face up, prompting Mystery to untangle himself and stand away from the two. “Where’s your jacket?” Vivi piped, nervous now. “And Arthur? Lewis? What happened!”

“He’s… somewhere,” Lewis said, as he sat up. Vivi partially curled up on his lap and sat there, staring at the only area of his skull visible, the eyes blazing within the eye sockets. “He can’t go through walls.” Lewis spun his skull to avoid Vivi’s scowl. “He did try though, I’ll give him that.”

Vivi stared up at the skull as she processed his words, and the image came to her. She had thought that Arthur, with Lewis… and the missing jacket meant— Vivi slapped her brow. “Really?” She exhaled a small breath in mild relief. It was very mild.

“I can’t make this stuff up. I’m not that clever,” Lewis said, voice bubbling with an odd warmth. “Ask him about it when we catch up. Now, about that creature?” Lewis looked at Mystery when he padded over, the amber spectacles held at current between the dogs front teeth gently. Lewis reached around Vivi to take the glasses, but Mystery flinched away and instead edged the glasses to Vivi.

Vivi sighed and took the glasses, but even then Mystery would not release them. “Arthur,” she said. “Where was he last?” She released the glasses that Mystery held, and the dog padded over to her torch light and nosed the flashlight over to Vivi.

As Vivi and Lewis returned to the section of hall where Arthur had been left, she discussed the beast creature at its basic nature. It would not speak with them, and an item of casting or binding effect would not work on it. They would have to be a little more ‘creative,’ as Vivi had air quoted with her fingers. Lewis was able to somehow guide them downstairs back to the hall where he had last seen Arthur, and by some small miracle Arthur had not run off and gotten lost.

“Arthur,” Vivi had cooed, as she approached the cheerful yellow slice his torch produced. “I thought that demon hound would have eaten you!” She ran up and threw her arms around Arthur and gave him a tight hug. Arthur dropped the heavy jacket he had been holding, it _Hit_ the floor and folded over his feet in a solid lump.

Arms free, Arthur returned the embrace with no hesitation. “Oh, y’know. Them beasties only like to rough me up,” he said into her hair. Arthur’s eyes snapped open when Lewis stepped forward into his flashlight beam. “Hey.”

“Hey,” was all Lewis would say.

Vivi shoved Arthur away and checked his face. “Did you try to go through a wall?” She pushed the dark hairs up off of Arthur’s brow until they stood up, as they should. Mystery padded around the two and gave a few soft yaps through his clenched teeth. “Another bump! You can’t keep doing this to yourself Art!”

Rather comment, Arthur bit his lip and cast his eyes down. He knelt as Mystery came around his side to face him, and Arthur took the spectacles that Mystery persisted into shoving at his legs. “I didn’t want to be left alone in this creepy house,” Arthur said, as he set the glasses onto the bridge of the dogs white snout. He stands but tries not to meet Vivi’s perceptive eyes.

“There was a door right next to the wall,” Lewis grumbled.

“It was dark, alright? Let’s drop it and move on like adults,” Arthur said. He made a point to match stares with Lewis and hold the ghosts gaze. Arthur discreetly reached into his back pocket and fingered the rolled up page. “What about monster hound?” Arthur asked, breaking eye contact. “Is he still hunting and haunting?”

“Un…fortunately,” Vivi said, somewhat hesitant. “We’ll need to stash some of our supplies back in the van, first. But, I think I know a simple method to banish this nuisance.” She moved to stand between Arthur and Lewis. “It won’t follow our conventional methods, but that won’t stop us. Will it?”

Arthur and Lewis exchanged a glance, then turn back to Vivi. “Naw,” “Nada.”

“Good. And Lew-Lew.” Vivi turned to face the dapper spirit and reached up to take his skull between her hands. Lewis stared down at her and Vivi stared back into his bright embers eyes wavering like hesitant flames in a draft. It was hard to put into words, so instead Vivi beams at him and says, “You’re a walking nightlight. You know that?” Lewis visibly relaxes, and Vivi knows she has said the right thing.

 

An hour later.

The plan was fairly basic and as always, Vivi took care to remind everyone (Lewis) that they would be as careful as safely possible and not WRECK THE WHOLE HOUSE. If not already noted, this mostly applied to Lewis, but they shouldn’t have any problems here if everything went smoothly. Arthur was still uncertain, and he was still paired with Lewis but that wasn’t going to change. He hadn’t expected it to. As he crept through the hall and listened for the absence of sound, the indication of safety, he took his watch from his pocket and checked the time. Only a few minutes since he last checked it. Arthur slipped the broken pocket watch into his pocket and followed the eerie misty pink beam of his flashlight.

“Why don’t you go ahead and ask?” Lewis said. His voice was disembodied and echoed in Arthur’s head with a distinct hollowness. “I know you can’t resist.”

Arthur glared at his torch, his favored flashlight he always used during investigations because he liked the cheeriness of the bright yellow beam. The edges of the once sturdy light now flutter, and from staring at it too long Arthur developed a mild ache in his head. “Okay, I bite.” Arthur rubbed at his brow with his flesh hand in hopes to massage out some of the tension. It didn’t help. He asks, “Can you now sense and/or detect weird monster dog?”

One. Two. Three. Arthur counts his steps, slowing through his steps when no answer comes, anxiousness twists at his fingertips. An uncanny sense of isolation washed through Arthur, though he knew exactly where Lewis was, as evidence by the bright light in his path. “No,” was ALL Lewis said. And then they were not speaking again, and the hall was empty save for Arthur. Arthur, and his once warm, faithful flashlight that didn’t talk at him.

“Then why the fuck did you tell me to ask?” Arthur hissed. He wanted to throw the flashlight against the wall between the pictures or smash it on a desk, but that would ruin his only good light source. He had a penlight but that thing was pathetic. Arthur found the large doors that entered into the theater room. He pushed one door open and crept inside, his eyes tracked the revealed as they are revealed, then down the canvas screen suspended on the far wall, and down still to the stage below.

“You couldn’t resist,” Lewis said. “It was making you edgy— watch your step.”

The edge of the carpet rug was turned up, from where Arthur had stumbled on it earlier. He used his toe to kick it back flat and then raised the light to examine over the couple rows of theater style chairs. “I’m edgy because we’re looking for a damn monster hound, and NOT trying to confirm a rumor,” Arthur muttered.

“Just be careful,” Lewis advised. It didn’t sound right, Lewis voice coming from nowhere. A terrible thought came to Arthur, and he smothered it down in case – though he doubts – Lewis could hear his thoughts. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Arthur scoffed as he returns to the large doors and steps out into the hall. “Good to know,” Arthur says, “I’m not sure if I wouldn’t feel—” A snarl tore through Arthur’s words, and the beast lunges across the hall at Arthur with its claws flashing through the magenta light twisting around its shaggy hide. Arthur gives a shriek and tumbles away from the claws, while simultaneously throwing the flashlight at the monsters flank. “Jeez fuck puddles!” Arthur yelps, as he kicks away from the large muzzle gnashing at his shoes. “Teeth! Huge teeth— Whoa!” He tries to kick at the carpet and get onto his feet, but the beast snaps at his hip and Arthur rolls away to avoid the teeth inches from his neck.

A table’s legs thrust out at the beast’s large neck and it turns, the bright green lights in its head glare at Lewis standing beside the theater doors with a small desk in his hands. The beast snarls as Lewis prods its shoulders with the table, stabbing at the creature as it recoils from his assault. “Back! Down! Bad!” Lewis hissed. Arthur used the wall beside him to drag his weight up off his feet and watched, as Lewis jammed the table down onto the beast a few more times without letting up.

The beast shook and took one more hit, then swung its body up under Lewis’ choice of weapon and raised to its back legs. Even to Lewis who was grizzly tall when settled on the floor, the hound beast was nearly twice his size and towered. Lewis cursed and sputtered as he shoved the table up at the creatures dark chest. The flashlight, whose beam had resumed its yellow glimmer, spiraled on the floor when Lewis kicked it with his foot. With a groan the hell hound toppled down onto Lewis, crushing the table over the ghosts chest with its thick elbows. Arthur gawked as Lewis sank into the floor and faded from physical sight. Snarling and sniffing, the beast lowered its head to the pieces of table and examined the floor between its claws, then raised it large head towards Arthur.

Somehow Arthur’s body was able to stay in one piece when his legs shot off. The hall whirled by his eyes in black static, in Arthur’s panicked state his pupils had dilated to the point that he could make out enough of where he was going that he didn’t slam into a wall. He put out his good arm skimming his fingertips over hardwood panels, then plaster, then nothing. The tile fluffed into carpet, as he tore around a corner; tap – tap his hands, his steps softer but no less slower. The hell beast howled after him, pursuing, its claws cracked over tile. A destination was in Arthur’s mind but he had to reach it first, and the McHiggin estate was not a place to be measured in feet. 

“Hey, Vi,” Arthur gasped, as he pulled the walkie-talkie up. His heart stabbed into his ribs at the recognition no sound was coming through, the walkie-talkie was dead and cold. Up until Arthur realized he’d forgotten to turn the walkie-talkie on. Arthur tore around a corner and nearly slammed into the opposite wall as his feet skid on top of a rug. “Vi! Come in!”

“Yellow?” Vivi said. “You find the beast thing?”

“It found US! Where are you?” he shrieked. Arthur smashed into a large door and fumbled with the deadbolt, his eyes flash up and back to the doors frame as he claws to get the latch undone. He was half blind as he pawed at the wood, and his panic interfered with his ability to focus his tension coil in his prosthetic. “It’s huge! You didn’t say it was huge!”

The walkie-talkie pops and screeched as Arthur eased his grip off the call button. “—ust head on out like the plan!” Vivi said. In the background Mystery yapped with urgency and Arthur could hear her shoes tapping at the tile. “I’ll meet you out there! I’m not far! Don’t panic Art, you’re doing great.”

“ThaaAAaAaanks!” he screamed back, before he tore the door open and raced into the next room. 

It was the sunroom, a large study with chairs and sofas placed around and covered in cotton sheets that protected the furniture from the direct rays of the sun. This was to be the room connected with the – someday – completed indoor pool. Arthur flew through leaping over sofas and a desk, as he made a beeline for the tarps covering the demolished side of the room. A strangled bellow and a _Crack_ followed inches behind, as the hell beast barreled through the large door. With Arthur in its sights it picks up pace, huffing and snarling as its paws slam at the carpet. Arthur gives a piercing squeal as he hits one of the heavy plastic tarps stretched over the dismantled wall of the home, the nails tear out of faux log cabin wall as Arthur smashes through and keeps going. 

The cold air swarms over Arthur’s body as he races under the moonlight. Arthur struggles, jerking his arms around his face to remove the stiff plastic tarp twisted over his shoulders. He can’t get a half lung of air in with the plastic constricting, the coating distorts his sight. But he can hear the monster gallop after him, its pants coming nearer as Arthur tussles around and around trying to find a way out of the heavy plastic while evading its path. “Vi! Vi” Arthur hoots, hoping to hear her voice close or anywhere at all. “Where are—” Arthur doesn’t see what gets his ankle but he sails forward and falls. He falls, and he falls, and before he knows it, Arthur has hit. 

The landing is soft but it comes unexpected and it jars him, right through the arm he has landed on. Arthur groans as he rolls over, the tarp untangles and drags over the side of his head and his hair flips up in an uncomfortable manner. His arm, the prosthetic aches in his shoulder and the movements are sluggish. He is stunned and tries to move and get his good arm under him. Shadows hover around him and the scent of fresh soil and dry roots stabs his sinuses. A tingling sensation uncoils somewhere in his armpit as he rocks to his bad side, struggling to get some form of cooperation from his bad arm.

He can’t see the hell beast when it seeps from the shadows, but he hears it when it plops down in the pool with him. It pants and rasps, teeth gleam under the bright moon hanging high in the sky, far out of harms reach. Arthur pulls himself away from the creature as it advances on him. “Guys? Help?” There’s barking and a voice, somewhere above the pools edge. “Anytime now!”

The hell beast rears up and Arthur drags himself away, escaping the flash of white claws as they tear through the silver light and down onto the tarp he had been tangled with. “Over here! Vi! The pool! The pool!” Arthur shrieks. He stumbles over the loose soil, still delirious from the shock of the fall. Raspy snarls pursue his butchered retreat; the friendly but alarmed barks hail from the sky, tracking Arthur’s frenzied dashes around the obstructed walls of wood and canvas. The way Mystery’s voice echoes made it impossible to track and Arthur quickly loses his sense of direction in his confusion. 

Loose soil cascades down over Arthur’s face and shoulders when he hits the unset far back of the pool. He leaps and snatches the high edge of the pool with his good arm and begins to haul himself up, his feet jam into the soft earth under him. But his bad arm doesn’t react to the tension in his muscles when he works to move it and Arthur falls, more cold soil filling his sleeves and shoulders. He tries again and again, only to be met with the same result. Arthur gives a choked cry, something barely human, and calls for Vivi.

Briefly, he recalls how frantic Mystery had been earlier that day trying to perform the simple task of climbing up out of the pool. How desperate Mystery was to get away from Lewis, and how he absolutely would not let Lewis touch him. As Arthur sorts through these reflections, he neglects to take into account how wild his heart is beating. He claws at the dirt and stares up, his unwavering expectation that she will be there, she will get him out of this mess. In his panic he neglects to notice the beast at his back as it closes in. 

A loud grunt scratches out, after Lewis sweeps down smashing a fist over the beasts snout with a sharp right hook. “Stop that!” Lewis drops from his short glide and straightens up as he turns to Arthur, magenta embers glimmer within Lewis’ skull. Arthur whips around and promptly falls onto his ass, he rests his back against the cold soil behind him. “Art. You okay?” Lewis asks.

Arthur presses himself further back into the wall but is silent, and stares at Lewis. He could bear it, couldn’t cope with no escape, no window of opening but for the sky high above his head. After several sharp pants Arthur comes back to himself, and sees Lewis waiting. He nods, his head hangs. “Just… yeah. Fell on my arm, s’all.” Arthur raised the prosthetic, and steadied it with his good arm as he tests the fingers by gripping. The pinky and ring finger are sluggish but seem to click back into place and curl into his palm with his other fingers. “Banged up, but I’m fine.” Arthur doesn’t look up when Mystery’s barks are directly above him, or when Vivi calls down at them. “Where were you?” Arthur says, as he looks up at Lewis.

The warning Vivi calls is missed when Lewis stutters with an answer, but his voice drags off into a piercing shriek when the hell beast rears up and tangles its claws into Lewis’ suit. Vivi is shouting, unable to aid in any direct way, but to level her light onto the scene as the screaming creature hauls Lewis across his backside. Cold soil clumps into the top of his suit collar, and Lewis tucks his head down as the creature plants its weight upon the paws pressed over his shoulders. It shoves its snout onto his ribs….

And much too close to the steadily pulsing heart exposed on Lewis’ chest. That was it, that was the last straw. The beast had yet to notice the heart, but Lewis wouldn’t give it the chance. Bright fuchsia fire fills the eye sockets of Lewis skull, and Lewis thrusts his fits into the beast’s lower abdomen. A thick swell of fire engulfs the dark hide, the pink haze immediately competes with the black smog that rolls off the beasts body.

Harsh screams tear from the hell beast. It twitches and stumbles away from Lewis, more terrible howls peel from its body becoming less fearsome and more panicked. Lewis draws himself from his prone position on the dirt and rears himself up above the creature. At his quick response the hell beast takes another swipe at Lewis, the claws nearly catch the sides of his suit. When the beast shudders and stumbles, Lewis sweeps forward digging his dark digits into the heavy snout of the monster hound. Fire licks down Lewis shoulders and his arms, the pink flames lick across the frazzled hair and burn off the sharp ears. Mystery’s barks have reached an entirely new level of panic but Lewis can’t stop, not yet. The back legs of the monster curl down and it yowls as it rolls onto its side, its voice remains heavily distorted and mangled but desperate pleas begin to peel forth.

“Help! HELP! I’m on fire,” the rough voice snorts. “Get me out!” The large paw swipes around the head of the hell hound but does nothing to relieve Lewis hold.

When the hysterical cries come Lewis twitches and draws back, his fingers rip free of the beasts broiled skull. The bright fire once illuminating the makeshift wood and canvas walls of the pools inner wall diminish instantly and the air resume its dark, frigid state. A frail breeze flitters over the sides of the pool, carrying away the dark smoke trailing off the hell hounds body. Lewis is distressed by how quiet Vivi has become, he’s not even surprised that Arthur has essentially vanished off the radar.

The situation disconcerts Lewis, and he dithers from further action. A low crackle pops from his torso as a small puff of flame flutters out from his skull’s jaw sharp teeth. “How do we get you out?” he asks, voice rough.

“The arms. Pull them off,” the ragged voice begs. Black smoke rises off the bubbling face and the hell beasts abdomen, it smells five times as bad as the creature was rumored to. “Under the neck is a zipper. Hurry, it burns!” 

“Hold on,” Lewis says. He moves to the creatures front and tugs on one paw but it feels secure where it is, and Lewis doesn’t want to strain something and hurt whoever is inside. Lewis leans closer to fumble at the neck of the beast’s body, but stops and withdraws when Vivi rushes over. “There’s a zipper here.” Lewis pulls up a flap on the neck, revealing a small tag which Vivi illuminates with her flashlight. She bits the handle of her torch as she squats down, then begins forcing the corrupt zipper down the length of the dogs chest.

“It’s got melted crap all over it,” Vivi states. She shrugs her backpack off and digs into it, pulling out pieces of paper, a notebook, a camera – she shifts some of her supplies around and curses. The voice is still grumbling about burning and pleading with his ‘rescuers,’ but Vivi doesn’t blink an eye and remains focused on her backpack. She does look up when Arthur totters over, he holds out his hand and a pocket knife rests on his palm. Lewis glances down at the knife and gives Arthur a look, but Arthur doesn’t check his stare. Vivi snatches the knife and goes to work, carving through the thick material. “Lemme know if I cut you.”

“Just hurry,” the distorted voice moans. 

Arthur leaves Vivi to work and wanders to the front of the beast’s body. After a short examination of the paws, Arthur takes one arm and gently twists and pulls the limb free from the elbow down. His prosthetic fumbles as he works with the other arm but he does manage to make his arm function enough to get the paw loose, and free the hands of the person within. “This is a huge disappointment,” Arthur mutters. “Should we get an explanation before we get him out?” Arthur asks. He rubs at his nose as he looks to Vivi, and she pauses in her work to look at Arthur. The gargled voice continues to plead.

“I’m gonna suffocate,” he says.

“We’d better not risk it,” Vivi reasons. She resumes tearing the hide open, and Arthur returns to her side and begins going through the backpack. They don’t notice as Lewis pulls away from the group and stands beside the wood frame and canvas covering of the pools side, and watches. Mystery appears from the gloom, he trots over and sniffs at the twitching rear legs of the hell beast. Once Vivi and Arthur get the hell beast’s operator free enough, he begins to fight them and shoves Vivi away before he grabs at Arthur’s neck.

Lewis darts over and grabs the man by his upper arms and tears him off Arthur, then he pins the man over the side of the hell beast. A good portion of the operator is still caught within the hell beasts, and this benefits Lewis procedure as he twists the man as far over the suit body as he will go and forces his prisoners hands as far behind his back as he could. “That’s enough,” Lewis hissed. He pressed his knee into the man’s back and the man gives a pained cry.

“I won’t fight anymore,” the man screams. He wears a black material suit and a mask, where only his face is visible. “I’m done!”

“Not that we don’t trust you,” Vivi says. She hands Arthur the pocket knife and helps secure the man’s wrists together. Vivi holds the flashlight while Arthur wraps a few coils of twine around the wrist’s of their captive. “But we don’t trust you.” The task complete, Arthur moves aside to kneel beside Mystery. Assured now that the man will not get far if he breaks free, Lewis loosens his hold on the captive and Vivi helps remove his legs from the interior of the hell beast suit. The man stumbles as Lewis guides him into crouch on the cool soil, and Vivi gives him a quick look over with her flashlight. “You’re not burnt at all.” The man shrugs his shoulders. Vivi then takes the hood of his balaclava and adjusts the flashlight in her hand. “If it’s not the butler it’ll be,” she said, Lewis tightens his hold on the man’s shoulders as Vivi plucks off the hood. “Not old man Jenkins?”

“Surprised?” asked Trevor.

Arthur rubs at Mystery’s shoulders and frowns, though Trevor can’t see it in the dark. “Not really,” he said. “We’ve been doing this gig for a while. Didn’t you get that vibe when we had the talk?” 

Mystery barked. This person was a complete waste of time.

Vivi motioned Lewis, and Lewis released Trevor and backed away but kept his ember eyes fixed on Trevor. Vivi shines the light on Trevor chest. “How about an explanation,” she asks. “Tell us why this elaborate scheme with the demon dog, that offensive smell and the random appearances. It’s the least you can do after you wasted all our time with this.”

Trevor tugs at his binds behind his back, though he knows that’s useless. “I don’t have to say anything, do I?” he asked, glancing from Vivi to Arthur. “You’re not detectives, you have no authority.”

From where he was sitting, Arthur spied a small puff of flame ignite at Lewis’ skull briefly, which Arthur attributed to extreme ghost agitation. “You got us there,” Arthur said. “We’re just a little curious, don’t mind us. But I already have my own personal theory to why you were making all this trouble, and all the rest of your dance and show.” Arthur motions in the dark to Trevor, with his good arm. “Make this easy on yourself. I’m tried, I want to take my arm off and go to bed. Y’know, the one I fell on and mucked up because something might’ve snapped in it when I landed on it. Though, that’s not as bad as getting barbe—”

“Art! Sweety,” Vivi coos, and turns the blue beam of her light over to Arthur. “You’re rambling again.” 

Arthur hangs his head. “Sorry,” he said. Mystery leans over to his face, and Arthur pushes him away gently. “It’s getting late, and I’m done with this.” 

“I know, hang in there.” Vivi turns her light back to Trevor. “You’re unwilling to tell us anything? Not even why the smell, because I think that on its own would be some sort of hazardous offense.”

“No, sorry,” Trevor said. He adjusts his knees, his legs were falling asleep and he was cold in the chilly air. “Go ahead. Call the police. I made sure nothing can be proven. The most I’ve done is…. Trespassing, causing a disturbance. And if there’s something I missed, I have a lawyer that’ll look after me.”

“So…” Vivi began, as she put her other hand over the flashlight handle. “It’s safe to presume you’ve maybe done this to other people, around here? But no one’s said anything yet, and you kept your little hobby low key?” 

Trevor shakes his head as she shines the light back on him. “You can’t prove a thing,” he says, assured. “Homes make all kinds of creepy noises at night. Especially these big ones.”

“I’m sure you were a moderate apprentice to this sound making,” Vivi said. She waved her flashlight along the grainy pool floor as she recalled the specific areas of the home, where the McHiggin’s reported these sounds. “You thought the overpowering stench of the ‘hell beast’ would cover up any scent you may have left behind that would, let’s say, alert a dog in with a keen sense of smell.” She directs the blue beam of light to Mystery seated close beside Arthur. To his acknowledgement, Mystery puffed out his chest and perked his ears up. “I’m confident Arthur, our mechanic, will have no problem in learning how to open up the passages in the walls you built in during construction. Some perks of an electrician.” The light of her torch caught Mystery’s amber glasses, and the gleam at his face obscuring his red eyes.

“The outer walls would be insulated,” Arthur added. “Not the inner walls. And I guess there’d be enough space for you.” He rubbed the back of his head with his good hand. “Haven’t really decided where you’d have parked your costume. You couldn’t have taken it with you and from the estate place, especially at night."

There was the matter of the costume they had as well. Lewis considered it while Vivi and Arthur hassled Trevor with the facts. No doubt the suit would still have evidence of the home still in its fur, from the doors and table it had wrecked. If those parts were not too badly damaged. He avoids looking at the still smoking husk of the beast suit.

Trevor shook his head as Vivi concluded another indisputable fact. She could see the irritated smirk clearly between his lips. “You can’t prove a thing,” he insists. “I have the right to remain silent, and to wait for my legal representative,” Trevor says. “You kids are being ridiculous, just hurry up and call them and get it over with.”

“The police?” Lewis inquires, his voice weaving into a gentle and almost harmonic resonance. “Oh, no-no-no, padre. If we call the police, they might try to save you.” Trevor jerks his head around to follow Lewis’ vague shape as it glides out and moves to stand behind the crouched Vivi. Lewis picks up on the confusion latched onto Trevor, while their captive is unable to see enough of the dark etches in the skull suspended beneath the pitiful scraps of light offered by the moon and stars, the white features accented and aided less by the bright embers burning in the depths of Lewis’ skull. It is only confusion and not fear, because Trevor is uncertain of what he is looking at. Lewis could fix that.

“W-what—?” Trevor said, voice dropping as his jaw slacked. He made no effort to compose himself and instead, gaped up at Lewis.

The dapper spirit adjusts his cufflinks, little magenta embers snap off as he flicks his fingers away from his dark suit. “I don’t take kindly to ANYONE that would even attempt to harm my friends,” Lewis said, embers in his eye sockets dimming to points. “I apologize. It seems I didn’t offer that caution earlier in the day, when we met.” Vivi’s torch dims and flashed in her hands, she looked down at it.

Little of Lewis was visible now but for a dark mass of his outline gleaming under the starlight, and his eyes burning in the twin eye sockets of his skull. Trevor tries to ask a question, but instead gags as he swallows. Caught in the tangle of dark and doubt he scoots away from the group, and drops to his side. Pink-purple embers kick up but he can’t see where from, he can only smell smoke and scorched rock. “Who are you?” rather ‘what are you,’ wrenches from Trevor’s throat. He doesn’t want to know, and he doesn’t want to look up at what is there.

A hand snares Lewis coat collar when he began to inch forward, toward the tormented criminal. Lewis swivels his skull atop his collar and glares, hungry fire wavered within his slanted eye sockets.

It’s Arthur, his metal arm outstretched and holding tightly to the suit collar. “This isn’t you,” Arthur says, tightening his hand as best as he could on the sharp collar. “Stop.” Mystery is poised a short ways behind Arthur, facing Lewis with his ears high and a frown on the dogs face.

Lewis is incredulous at first. How dare he? How dare Arthur get in the way, as always? But… he relents when his attention moved down to Vivi, half risen with her hands out in his direction as though attempting to approach some manner of furniture with care. Her light was out completely but Lewis hadn’t noticed, he could only perceive anxiousness snagging at her inner thoughts. Doubt, fear. In short, none of it was acceptable. He couldn’t allow it.

“Right,” he said, and backed away from Vivi as she still tracked his vague shape with caution. “I’m all right, blueberry.” Vivi remained frozen where she stood, her knees tremble from the strain of the awkward angle she now stood in. She began to straighten up more as Lewis backed off.

Vivi doesn’t… he doesn’t detect her confidence, Lewis can’t even look her in the eye. Instead, he turns and drifts away from his friends. The tension lifts but it still hovers, and Vivi watched Lewis where he ‘stands,’ gaze focused on the wood frame wall of the pools side, rather than the scorched hide of the hell beast at their feet. “We need to get him inside,” Vivi says. She turns her attention to Trevor huddled on the earthy floor, trembling mostly from the cool air creeping around. Mystery gives a soft whine in the dark. “Trevor, can you—?”

“I heard you,” he muttered, but there was no force in his voice. Trevor tilts his head to catch Vivi’s eyes. She can see the scowl on his face, before she turns her attention to her dead flashlight. Trevor shut his eyes when Vivi’s flashlight blazed with life, after some skillful shaking of the batteries.

“C’mon,” Arthur said. Mystery pranced with the blonde as he stepped forward to drag Trevor up. “I’ll help you out of here. And don’t run. That never works and… you’ll just stumble and break your nose. I’ve done that before—”

“Do you always ramble when you’re nervous?” Trevor asked. 

Arthur had climbed out of the pool, but paused when he reached down to pull Trevor up out of the lower side of the pool. “Uhh… yeah,” he admitted. Arthur hoisted Trevor up, and glanced across to where Vivi stood with Lewis. Trevor looked back, and Arthur heard his breathing stop. 

“I’ll worry about you,” Vivi warned. “Just come in for a moment?”

Lewis gave her a waning smirk. She said he had gotten himself together in record time, and she was impressed. Lewis still had his misgivings. “I just need a little more time to collect myself. Please, Blueberry? I’ll keep an eye out, make sure he doesn’t make a run.” He gave a mischievous smirk towards Trevor. “I doubt he will, eh padre?”

Trevor stared mutely but gave his head a frail shake.

“He can see your eyes, Lew,” Vivi mumbled.

“He was hiding in the walls of a home, and fabricated a demon hound costume.” Vivi actually returned Lewis’ smile, as he went on, “After the investigations, I doubt he’ll want to be thrown in the loony bin, too.” He froze when Vivi tugged him down by his tie and gave him a light peck on the cheek.

“Then I expect to see you in the van, later,” she said. Lewis was still hunched over when Vivi spun away, calling Mystery with her. Vivi opened her arms to catch Mystery when he jumped up, then she sprang easily up the pools wall to join Arthur and Trevor. “He needs some fresh air,” she explained, as she set Mystery down. Arthur gave a soft grunt as he turned away to walk towards the home, swelling under the starlight. 

Trevor followed with no word of protest, not a sound or wrong step, and just kept his eyes glued to the blue beam of light planted in his path. He should have followed his gut, he should have known better. He needed a way out of this, he needed a story his lawyer could work with. He had money, he knew he could figure it out. Trevor would get out. He could beat the system.

__

It was unfairly early in the morning. The sun had yet to show itself, but it would be within the next half hour dance in the sky with deep grays. Arthur didn’t check is watch. He glanced the clocks in the home a few times throughout the fiasco of the cops coming out, and he’d been mercifully exempted from the questioning (for now). Vivi was still inside, explaining things and taking Mystery around the house to mark out the secret panels. Arthur was left behind and he didn’t mind, he was beat.

The night was solid and placid, as nights are between the very last minutes between night and dawn. His shoes grit over the splotched gray path he walked on, towards the gate in the wall of the McHiggin estate. He wished there were crickets, he wished it was spring already, but no. It was late fall and the air was unbearably cold to his metal arm.

A part of him hoped that Lewis had stayed at the pool. Or was haunting somewhere in the mansion, keeping an eye on Vivi. Sometimes Arthur needed alone time too, but not often. Only rarely and in those moments he craved some isolation like water on a parched, hot day. But it was cold, and he wanted to get out of the air.

He didn’t bother to knock, if Lewis was inside. Arthur turned the key in the door and pulled the latch. “Jeez, fuck,” Arthur cursed, and stumbled back. He composed himself to a small amount and spun away, not bothering to shut the driver side door. “Sorry.” The door crept shut as a form of reply, while Arthur made the long walk to the passenger side of the van. He unlocked that door and climbed in, then nearly fell out backwards as he reached out for the door to drag the door shut on his shoulder. He didn’t bother to check Lewis as he clambered over the bench seat and tumbled into the back. It was cold there too. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lewis answered. He leaned over the steering wheel and stared up at the stars through the misty clouds. Arthur fumbled around in the back, looking for a blanket or adjusting himself. The sounds faded and Lewis wouldn’t have known Arthur was there, if not for his steady breathing. “How’s Vivi holding out?” he asked, out of the blue.

Arthur mumbled something and thudded. “Well. Good,” he muttered, voice muffled. “Pissed, but she’s super patient.” He chortled, and Lewis smirked. “Trevor looked so relieved when they put the cuffs on him and stuck him in the car.”

Lewis had seen the law enforcement drive up an hour ago, to the side of the McHiggin estate not far from the soon to be built indoor pool. It had prompted him to relocate to the van earlier than he had wanted. “The mysteries were never that much fun when we figure out its some jerk in a mask,” Lewis said.

“I would’ve gotten away with it too,” Arthur grumbled, imitating a gruff voice. “If it weren’t for you brats and that darn mutt.” He made a sound, some sort of gurgle, as he tussled over the hollow floor of the van. “Hell mute was kind of interesting. I get tired of vampires and ghouls, and….” He trails off. It was at a long time before Arthur finally snapped out, “Witches.”

“Nice save.”

“Thanks,” Arthur hummed. “Viv’s will be out later, I guess.” A soft rumble came from Lewis, but it didn’t sound warm. It had a strange hollowness to it. When Arthur looked up to check if he could catch Lewis’ outline in the mirror, he saw the front seat vacant of the looming shape. “Lew?” Arthur strained to peer up, now fully awake. He was still off balance after removing his arm, and tried to compensate by leaning far over his kneels as he moved to sit up. “Lew—”

“What?” Lewis’ eyes appeared first, then his skull and his suit, across from Arthur in the corner between the van and the bench seat. Arthur would have jerked away, if he had a reaction from his missing left arm.

“Why do you do that?” Arthur hissed. He shuffled away, now that Lewis’ outstretched legs had invaded his zone.

“Why not?” Lewis countered. He stared at Arthur without expression, as if studying him. 

Arthur tried to ignore the glimmering eyes as he curled down and faced the wall of the van. It was surprisingly comfortable to sleep without an arm attached. Given, Arthur’s prosthetic was heavy and pulled awkwardly on his shoulder if he slept sideways. He didn’t like waking up . with it on, after he… fell. Don’t think about. Don’t remind yourself, or it’ll be in your nightmares all night long. Think of….

“Art.”

The sunshine disappeared. The light, the warmth, the fresh air was gone. He could smell Viv’s shampoo. Did he grab Vivi’s blanket, or… ? Arthur ripped the blanket off his blunt side and found Lewis where he had last appeared, still watching, but now with an unfocused and distant expression in those bright embers. Arthur wanted to snigger. How the hell could a skull be so expressive and pained all in the same mood?

“What?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Lew?”

“Was he all right?” Lewis asked. “Trevor? Did you get a good look at him, in the light?”

Arthur groaned and slumped to his side. He curled up back in the blanket and watched Lewis with one eye open. “There wasn’t much to see,” he admitted. “He had some black smudges on his face, but he insisted it was grease or something. Why—?” Arthur jarred where he lay and focused his bleary eyes on Lewis. He could see the ghosts outline and eyes dim, as if he wanted to tear away into the night and disappear forever. The locket thudded and kept time, always faithful to its bearer. Lewis looked away, a stream of pink mist trailing from the front of his skull.

“Don’t tell Vivi,” Lewis murmured, or tried to with the odd static in his voice. “She worries too much already, about things she has no control over.” The skull tucked down to the edge of his collar and there it hovered. “I…” His voice faded into the soft scratching, and Lewis said nothing more.

Arthur kept his words to himself, and just watched Lewis as he lingered beside the bench seat. He and Lewis pretended to be asleep when Vivi came out with Mystery, and it stayed that way as she drove the van closer to town for the remainder of the morning.

That was when Arthur volunteered to trade places with Vivi. Not that there was no room in the vans back, but Vivi was still upset with Lewis and made a mute effort to remind the ‘resting’ ghost of this by sleeping in the front seat. Before he snuggled down with Mystery in the front, Arthur glanced into the dark interior of the vans back and saw true to her word, Vivi had taken Arthur’s former spot opposite from Lewis. She tangled herself in a sleeping bag and blanket, her back facing the open van.

Arthur sighed as he found his comfortable position, with Mystery draped over his chest. Somehow it was soothing, with a light blanket soaking onto them. He did not recall taking it, and in the dark Arthur had no idea whose it was. He surrender to the difficult rest tugging at his eyes, and lay staring up through the windshield as the vibrant amber light thinned into brighter blues. If he lay still without breathing, he could align his thoughts with the muffled thud of Lewis’ locket; steadily beating, a persistent constant lately. He could not get used to it.

When next he awoke it would be noon, and bright, and his face would be unnecessarily warm. But he needed to the warmth, and he needed the light. He needed a contrast to the dark place, and the dank pit of rot and pain. It was far away and nightmares were only temporary. He almost always woke up before he hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. I never changed my mind about the hell beast. But I am kind of disappointed, because it did come out sounding a lot cooler than it actually started as


	12. Chapter 12

##### Connected Roads

It was dangerous and illegal, but this particular stretch of road was heavy with the rumors warning of the many accidents that had occurred over the course of a few decades. These tragedies were sometimes attributed to the reckless drivers, the sharp turns, and narrow roads, along with the outdated nature of the old road itself. But what narrow, silt ridden road in the mountains was not known for tragedy?

They had seen a few of the memorials assembled by family, friends – bundles of cotton flowers tattered, colors faded, Styrofoam caked in mud. Tributes to the lost, forgotten, left to wither and decay. It had been years since anyone thought to renew the memories.

The deep fog and dismal rain matched the mood. Vivi wasn’t certain if the weathers activity was entirely natural, but she supposed later on the road that it must’ve been typical weather patterns for the season. When they had entered the high mountain elevation there had been a large swell of cloud cover, a huge mushroom of frothy, white rolling through the pines. In a matter of seconds a pleasant fall day had become frigid and muggy. The damp, chilled air clung to the open window of the van as Lewis took the tight turns, through the trees and down the steep sloping roads. Thick gurgles rolled out of the engine as he applied the gas, the motor rumbled and wheezed on the cold air clawing across the pipes. 

Lewis knew he missed driving, but he didn’t realize just how much he had missed it. The novelty of it mostly, but there was no denying the simple freedom of getting behind the wheel of the van, taking control of the acceleration, the gentle motions of their little transportable home on the road. He didn’t have it in him to forewarn Vivi that he might’ve been a ‘little’ rusty when the subject had come up. Vivi’s idea, out of the blue (literally), after they had stopped for a late – late brunch. She brought it up with Arthur when he returned from a walk with Mystery. Lewis knew he gave Arthur an obscure look, but Arthur had misunderstood it. Typical.

Once upon a time Lewis knew how to drive the manual shift, but he didn’t know if he would remember. There was a special technique when it came to manual. The van was automatic, and the road stretched on and on after he set the drive for lower gear to make up for all the steep downgrade. The lazy speed helped draw back the memories, the motions, everything gradual. Take it slow. Let it all come back, it would if he was patient. He didn’t really forget, but it had been…. a while. Lewis avoided asking too much from Arthur as they puttered along, didn’t want Arthur lingering too close to him. Any didn’t mattered that much, but Lewis felt a smudge of aggravation that had no justifiable origin. Maybe it was just Lewis, or he just wasn’t certain why, but he didn’t want Arthur around. Near him. But Arthur had caught on quick that Lewis still needed a few small reminders in the beginning, and even once Lewis felt assured he could drive on his own, Arthur felt comfortable nesting in the front seat just in case. Lewis kept the driver’s side window open and enjoyed the fresh cold air moving over and through him. 

Every few miles Vivi would indicate Lewis to stop off on a clear spot beside the road, and each of them would get out. The three collective living, but never Lewis. 

The fog filled branches surrounding them had the sounds of soft rain, pattering the moist pine layered soil with globs of fat droplets. Beneath the sodden tree cover it wasn’t as obvious, as it was on the open road. Wet and damp, everything slick and cold. Vivi wore her sweater, and Arthur was stubborn. He would get out with Mystery in his arms, the two bundled up in the blanket that Arthur had taken to curl up in on the passenger seat. The two would do what they could to help Vivi assemble the prebuilt pieces of reliquary she had patched together while they were on the move.

It took no amount of time to find a suitable secluded location, and then build the little shrine where it would be hidden from the curious. The process was repeated again and again. Lewis’ unease was not missed by Vivi, but it didn’t surprise her. She had researched expulsion incantations, barrier spells, protective wards – he was not immune to their persuasion, even if he wasn’t the intended target. Vivi made mental note to be more careful in future, but for the now she kept careful attention to the ghost’s ticks.

“You would let me know, wouldn’t you?” she asked, for what must’ve been the twelfth time. Vivi had some freshly cut pine branches on one of the older blankets, as she stripped some of its needles and tied twine to hold the branches curled into a circle. The soft light of the small camp lamp offered her and Mystery plenty of visibility, as they mended and weaved. “I don’t know how much of this is affecting you, Lew. Say something if whatever I’m doing is… y’know, hurting you.” 

Lewis drummed his fingers along the window sill of the door and looked out through the trees drenched with the gray mist. “Uncomfortable. That’s all,” he said. The van needed some fresh air anyway, with all the incense and resin Vivi was tearing up. “It’s nothing.” He glanced to Arthur in the passenger seat.

“It still bothers you,” she said. Vivi snipped off a bit of her hair and attached it to the base of the thick pine branch. Mystery was pawing at a cut piece of burlap cloth. Vivi noticed Mystery’s activities and watched, as the white dog raised a paw and pulled out small tufts of his own chocolate brown fur there. Vivi rolled it up and tied it to the base of the branch she was working on. “Are you even sure if it hurts or not?” Vivi posed.

Lewis chuckled. He was getting better at that, in the sense that he could make a sound other than the distorted wrong station of the radio he had been ‘projecting’. “It’s probably about the same, then. Don‘t worry yourself.”

“I’m going to,” she said. “And you can’t stop me.” Vivi smiled at the small pink embers to flutter from Lewis’ face. “Where’s that knife?” She turns to Mystery when he plucked up the folded pocketknife from the cover and held it towards her. “Thank you.” She worked for a while, cutting the thread and winding it tightly around the branches base. “How many miles have we come?”

Lewis listened to the draw of the engine and the rattle of the undercarriage. He checked the speedometer through the steering wheel and read off the mileage, a quick calculation snapped up. “We should be getting near the bridge,” Lewis mentioned. He looked to Arthur, who had been mostly silent for their travel. Arthur mumbled something and snuggled down into his blanket. “You have enough supplies to finish?”

“I should. Now where‘d the lighter go?” Vivi fumbled around the mess, pine needles, gummy bits of branches, pieces of twine. It helped that the road had leveled out, she wasn’t worried too much about losing her balance while she was knelt. “What would I do without you?” She ruffled Mystery’s multi-streaked mane, and accepted the lighter he presented to her. 

Mystery yapped. He was always glad to help with these little projects. He was pleased with how Vivi’s skill had grown since she first began, and he could take some pride in that if he wasn’t careful.

Lewis checked Arthur again, then, let his gaze snap back on the road. “Something the matter?” Arthur finally asked, without blinking, not even a glance to Lewis.

“No,” Lewis murmured. Of course Arthur was cold. The heater was on full blast, but the damn window was open and it was misting heavier in the lower elevation. “If it starts to rain, I’ll shut the window.”

Arthur cleared his throat some bit and sniffed. “Thanks for the consideration,” he mumbled. Lewis eyes glimmered as he checked Arthur, hardly hiding the action. Arthur coughed as he took a breath of the rough air, but before Arthur could say a word, Lewis’ voice cut through his thoughts.

“Take the wheel,” said the ghost. He was gone in an instant, the black leather coat Lewis had been wearing deflated and plopped onto the driver seat. Arthur gawked, blinked. The van had decelerated but they were still moving, slipping along the resent position of the steering wheel in the bend of the road.

“Fuck! Lew’ss! WHAT?!” Arthur lunged at the spinning wheel and latched on, wincing as the biting cold and wet air hit his face. “Damn— !” In the back Vivi was calling out a question, or warning, her voice was shredded by a muffled eruption. “ –S’IT!” Arthur hissed. He managed to get his eyes open and caught vision of the brilliant burst of magenta flames hissing through the fog directly beside the vans amber wall, outside. There was nothing but the crackling heat and black ash, he couldn’t accurately discern what had happened other than a small eruption that slammed into his eardrums.

“Arthur! What happened?” Vivi yelped, as the van began to sway. She felt the strong vibrations through the metal hull, the strength on par with a collision of some large physical force. “Art!” She threw her arms around Mystery when he struggled to stay in place on the short carpet of the vans floor. This didn’t aid them too much, as they were sliding on the blanket on the floor. Vivi shut her eyes as she held the poor whining dog tight in her arms, the sudden lurch of the van sent her sideways over the floor.

Arthur stuffed his good arm into the space of the steering wheels bars and took his foot off the brake, he kept his eyes locked on the road as the front wheels of the van tipped. The weight dragged them across the road as a screech tore out from the undercarriage, and burnt rubbed filled the open window. “Hold on! Hold on!” He shouts in lack of better caution, only partially focused on the black road sliding out of view. He’d lost track of Lewis, but Arthur wasn’t sure if the large burst of heat was their ghost in the first place. It was just bright. And loud. His ears were still ringing. “Just— Argh!” Arthur cursed when the van skipped sideways on the slick road and smashed the front into two large pines spaced apart.

The bench seat absorbed most of Vivi’s body when she slammed into it, still wrapped around Mystery. Mystery whined as Vivi uncoiled from him and stood up, arched over Arthur. “Say something, Art! You still with me?” Vivi reached her arm to his good shoulder and shook. Arthur jolted when she gripped his shoulder, and he twisted around in his seat to stare at her.

“He left the wheel,” Arthur chattered. “We could – I didn’t— ”

“We’re in one piece!” Vivi snapped. She was staring past Arthur, out the side of the windshield. “Stay put, I’ll see if I can find Lewis.” Arthur gave a sharp cry and tried to grab her, but Vivi had sprung over the front seat and pushed open the passenger door.

“Vi! Wait!” Arthur tried to follow, but Mystery had launched over the seat and bobbed in his way. “Mystery! Move!”

There was no sign of anything when Vivi had climbed out of the van. She gave the nearest of the area, where the fog was visible enough for her to see, a hasty scan. Her sweater and scarf had been damp for most the day, but now less than a few seconds beneath the open road void of tree cover, she was already soggy. She blinked through the gray, dreary scraps of light phasing through the cloud cover. Was that a hissing she heard? Or a rustling? It was loud, getting louder.

“Lewis!” Vivi hailed, hands cupped around her mouth. “Are you out here? What— ” She stopped and looked up, her face drained of color as she staggered backwards into the side of the van. Arthur squealed inside at the echo of her body colliding with the cold metal. “ _Oh god. Arthur and Mystery_!” She couldn’t move, her eyes rising to the untamed river of earth crashing between the pine trunks of the glistening slope. “ _They’re still inside!_ “ She lunged for the door. They could still ride it down, it wasn’t that thick. The van would be lost, but they would survive.

Vivi winced as a wall of flames sprang between her and the ominous stampede of nature. Bright, fire swells up and heats the immediate range briefly, before it fades out, the air continues to simmer with warm steam. To Vivi’s astonishment the mudslide recoils. Recoils as if it was a sentient, mobile thing. A congregation of embers collide between Vivi and the slithering soil, the fire diminish into the outline, the shape of Lewis void of flesh and living recognition. Under the constant drizzle of rain his skull and suit sizzled, a steady stream of white mist rose from him, though none of this seemed to faze him. Around his shoulders crackling spirit flames remain buzzing as he straightens up to watch the mudslide.

“You need to get out of here,” Lewis says to her. “I surprised it, but it won’t work twice.”

“The vans stuck,” Vivi replies. “I don’t know if he can move it on his own.” She looks away from Lewis, to the winding road and the thicket of trees between them.

The grinding soil heaves back, layers and pebbles rattle over and around, swirling higher and compressing down into itself, while bits of twigs and larger rocks churn within the mass. Rocks grind and gravel grates, as a torso and stout head mold from the thick silt.

Lewis throws himself forward, spooking Vivi who had turned back to watch mesmerized when the shape began to chisel out. Flames erupt along Lewis’ coat the moment before he rams the thing in what might be its chest, or would’ve been. The earth manifestation scatters under impact, and a low grating snarl emits from the pile of mud that dispersed over the road. In less than five second the soil was already rolling and piling back onto itself, slower this time with black smoke spilling off its scorched gravel layers. Lewis kicked himself away, ember eyes track the mass as it struggled. This would buy some time he hoped. 

The van lurched and coughed as Arthur toggled the drive stick and reversed, hunting for the combination of momentum to dislodge the vehicle. “Vi!” He called. Mystery was perched in the passenger seat leaning far out from the open door to watch, what he presumed was their friend(s). Arthur heard no sound from Vivi, aside for the loud crash and a violent sweep of chilled air. “Viv, could y—AH!” Arthur lurched in his seat when Lewis shot into view, skull faced and hair all riled and popping. Aside from that the fire ghost appeared unaffected by the rain, but for some steam rising off his shoulders and head. Lewis caught Arthur with a glimpse before he leaned down and pressed his shoulder to the van’s grill.

“Get it into gear!” the voice snapped. Arthur couldn’t judge if it was in his head or what, but it did reminded him keenly of the night he and Vivi stumbled into the mansion. “One, dos, tres! Reverse!” 

Arthur tried not to think of that now. He swung the drive shift into reverse and floored the gas. A squealing came from the rear as the wheels spun, but found no traction on the slick ground. Mystery bobbed at the open door and snarled at something unseen by Arthur, but he was beginning to hear it. A loud rustling and clicking, hissing and slipping. The image of rocks tumbling with loose soil down a steep hill hit his mind. All the rain, the _Watch for Falling Rock_ signs they’d seen. Arthur didn’t care if he cracked the gas pedal. He focused on Lewis’ shoulders hunched to the vans grill, and timed each pump of the accelerator as the ghost heaved at the vans grill.

Lewis had an advantage. He could press his feet into the asphalt and push, but he focused more on keeping solid and straining against the impossible mass of the van. He didn’t remember it being this stubborn, but they were on a slope and everything was slicked.

Vivi was suddenly beside him, shoulder braced to the grill and her blue shoes scraping at the white rock under them. “I told you to get back in the van,” Lewis hissed. Actually, he told her to get in the van and left her gawking at the mound of coiling mud.

“We’ll dislodge the van,” Vivi grunted. “Then I’ll get in.”

Lewis didn’t argue, he needed to concentrate. Drops of water bead at the tips of his upper jaw and drip off, his pseudo suit simmers as water mixed in his vague presence of shape. A fine whiff of fire wafts off his skull as he counts in his thoughts once more, judging when Arthur would hit the gas again. The van lurched and began to struggle back from them. Vivi groaned, teeth clenched, as she barreled forward with Lewis. She gave a breathless gasp as she turns to the tall ghost.

“There! Got it! Told you.” Vivi halt her words, as Lewis launched himself over her head and snared a large, solid shape in mid leap. Both fall sideways cutting across the solid amber hood of the van with a thud, under the clatter of metal, the same rustling tumbled through the air whenever the gray mass moved. Vivi stumbled sideways, trying to catch herself on the van but it kept backing up from the two brawling on the road. Once she caught her balance, she stood and stared as Lewis gave the shrillest cry she had ever heard him emit. Vivi knew it was Lewis, because the skull had tilt far back off the collar of his suit, while the thing upon him dug claws – she blinked – yes, they were claws, into his shoulders.

“Van!” Lewis rasped. “Get in! Go!” Magenta flashed in his eye sockets as Lewis turned his attention to the creature on him. Fire tore out of his cufflinks into the shaggy front of the creature, the locket on his chest pulsed steady, even as he struggled and screeched. “VIV!”

“Lew! You need help—” Vivi ducked back as the Gollum reared up over Lewis, a second set of arms at the base of its torso snared the collar of his suit. It was large, but its limbs were too short. It resembled something between a serpent or a goat, but lacked the definitive features of either. When it raised Lewis off the road, Lewis swung his legs up and hooked one ankle over a set of curved horns on its head and began to kick it repeatedly across its clutch of glimmering ‘eyes’.

“Help by getting,” Lewis slapped his hands over the entities forearms and flooded its gray, moist body with ravenous flames. “—Way!” Vivi stepped back when the Gollum shoved Lewis onto the soil and pressed him there, while fire stabbed across its underside. The Gollum grated, sounding as all manner of rock and soil crashing and crumbling. “Go!” Lewis gave the screaming creature another kick. It tore its arms out of Lewis’ suit, but its secondary arms still held his collar.

Vivi ran. She darts to the driver side door and reaches through the open window to pull the latch. A wave of shock slices over Arthur’s eyes, but it’s gone even before he began scooting aside for Vivi. “We’re leaving him?” Arthur spat. He’s looking through the windshield at the roads side, where Lewis is pressing back into the gray pebbled body. Mystery gives groans of concern, as Vivi puts the van into drive and tears off. The wheels screech as they gain traction, the passenger door sways but doesn’t shut. Arthur climbs over Mystery to get the door before the dog can go sailing out. Vivi was the best driver when it came to getaways.

“We’re more harm than good here,” Vivi retorts. She leans onto the windowsill on the driver side and looks back. The earth creature shrieks as unrestrained gusts of magenta and red spew skyward, embers crackle and steam keeps rising around them, obscuring the shapes within. Soon it is only silhouettes, then a wall of thick black fog. “Some sort of terraria spirit or man made Gollum. Damn, we had to be right!” She took the next curve sharply, the wheels screamed over the asphalt as she spun the steering wheel.

Arthur wrapped one arm around Mystery, and used his metal arm to hold the roof of the van. “Easy! I’d like to see my next birthday.”

“A few more miles,” Vivi said, eyes glued to the road. “There’s something about terra spirits, but I can’t remember.”

Arthur peered out of the fogged window at his side, Mystery wrapped up in his lap but watching Vivi intently. “I don’t think there’s much that can be done to him now, Vi. Y’know….”

“No,” Vivi snapped. She gave Arthur a short glimpse, then back to the road and keeping them in the proper lane. She bit her lip and tasted blood. “It’s more than that. Terra’s aren’t spirits, they were never human. God Arthur, you should read the more folktale stuff,” she sighed. She wanted to go faster, she wanted to be there now, but she also wanted to GET there. “It might just be paranoia, but I thought there was a description about them being kind of guides to the,” she choked as the words formed, and died. She couldn’t say it, no. She had to be wrong.

Arthur was staring at her. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he cries. “Nature spirits, right? Then they do… nature shit, right?”

“I don’t remember the specifics,” Vivi snarled back. There was the bridge, at the base of the mountain side. The road branched off to the next mountain range over, the bridge connecting the two. Through the dense tree cover it was difficult to make out, but Vivi had seen the dull red roof amidst the gray haze. “Knoxx Bridge! I see it.”

“Careful on the breaks, it’s really slick,” Arthur cut in. “Did you need to finish anything in the back?” He released Mystery in order to look over the seat, at the mess of pine needles and broken branches spread around.

“You can get the new candles we bought. And the Teddy bear,” Vivi answered. Arthur pulled himself into the back and she could hear tussle through the plastic bags. Mystery was about to follow, but whipped around to face the road instead, poised with one foot raised off the head rest he had intended to hope over. “Can you check if—” Vivi’s face screwed up – shock, fear, amusement, she wasn’t certain. 

A large black shape hurtled across the vans front, and Vivi twisted the wheel in some direction, she couldn’t recall, and screamed, “DUCK!” Arthur gave a sorrow filled moan as the van tilt far to the side. Vivi came out of her seat (no seatbelts was very dangerous), but Mystery had twisted around and pushed Vivi down with his front paws and braced her onto the door. Vivi didn’t bump her head too hard when they smashed into the surface of the road and skid, and she didn’t get pinned in the open window either. She couldn’t decide if Arthur was sobbing because he was hurt, or due to the van making that awful racket as the side was no doubt sanded off. Mystery leaned on his paws over Vivi as the noise dug into his delicate hearing, and Vivi tried to help by cupping his ears with her hands.

The van ground to a halt. Rain pattered gently on the large exposed side and gravel pecked around in the undercarriage, the pieces of rock misplaced in all the excitement. Inside the van, items continue to shift of fall from the sideways cuvees from the wall that was now upgraded to ceiling.

“Art?” Vivi called, gently. She took her hands from Mystery’s ears and listened, the vans engine still puttered but not as intimidating or fearless as before. She gulped down cold, wet air and turned the key in the ignition, then tried to call for Arthur again. “Good news, if that’s a reasonable request.”

“Present,” the broken voice muttered. The sound of rustling and crinkling came, as Arthur climbed over the tussled wall of the van. He leaned in through beside the bench seat and looked down on Vivi. “You okay?” Vivi nodded, and Arthur let out a wheeze. “Super. Now, what the fuck, girl?” 

“It hit us,” Vivi insisted, as she pushed Mystery away. But not before a firm hug around the dogs shoulders, then she returned to Arthur’s thrashed gaze. “Or something like it.” Arthur averted his eyes and stared at the interior of the van, the light mist tapped at the hull of their transportation. The back was a mess, supplies everywhere in little gray lumps, the light from the lamp had gone out. Vivi watched his sullen expression until it hit her. She griped a fist to her mouth as her breath trembled. “Lewis!” Arthur moved aside as she tumbled into the back, picking through the supplies.

“I’m – I’m sure he’s fine,” Arthur said. Mystery stayed beside him as Vivi went through, pulling up whatever was salvageable. Without further word Arthur began helping her. It was okay, she’d see.

Mystery stayed in the front seat, poised on the driver’s door (floor) as he stood watch. The bridge was only a few yards away, the heavy growth of pine branches dug at the rusted roof and walls that faded from the thickets edge. There was no sign of the Terraria or Lewis, and that greatly concerned Mystery. Shapes huddled in the fog, dark smears of vapor peering out, waiting. Mystery gave a soft bark and growled.

The pieces and parts for the memorial were up beside the upper edge of the vans wall, in a pile along the scratched roof. Viv found her backpack and loaded it with a notebook, a few charms – she knew nothing holy would work on an entity contrived of nature, not normally. “Did you find the candles?” she asked, when Arthur began rustling into something.

“Yeah.” Arthur picked up the bag and tucked back in a few of the candles that had fallen out. He also packed the twine and more branches stripped of the needles. There was Lewis’ jacket as well, tossed into the back while Arthur had been frustrated with trying to get the van dislodged from the tree. Arthur gave it a once over as he knelt in the supplies, his shoulders shook as the mist kept vibrating up and down the side of the van. “We’re ready then?” He pulled the jacket on over his head and shoved his arms out through the sleeves. The collar hung around his shoulders and Arthur tugged the torso out from his chest and grimaced. Lewis was a big guy.

“Should be,” Vivi answered, as she moved to the back door. “If not we can come back.” Before she could reach for the door handles, a loud hissing slammed into the side of the van. A strong physical force somewhere at the back, the blow caused the van to twist around and along the road, the friction sent painful screeches through the interior van. It might’ve been the van, it might’ve been the entity screaming at those within.

A pained yelp came from Mystery when he hit the side of the van. Arthur tries to recover and find Vivi in the dark. He called out to her, before a hand snared the wrist of his good arm and tugged him to the vans front where Mystery huddled.

“I’m more worried about Lewis,” Vivi spoke. She glanced back to the doors, but the assault had fallen still. For now.

Arthur brushed past her into the vans front, he braced himself to shove open the passenger door above them and wastes no time climbing up. Vivi knelt below the door and handed up her backpack, and the grocery bag of supplies they picked up earlier that day. “It’s clear,” he called, once he gave the perimeter a rushed look over. Vivi cooed to Mystery as she picked him up and passed the whining dog to Arthur. “Hang tight for a second.” The blond ducked away from the open door, leaving the drizzle to splatter the sides of the seats and the doors side.

A sudden and frightening crack came. Vivi cringed expecting the van to be struck once again but the rough collision failed, leaving her braced within confusion and agitation. Other sounds became audible beyond the walls of the van. She could pick out the grinding of rocks, loose soil scraping among tree trunks and grass. It sounded like the whole forest was moving, shifting, living. “Art!”

“Hold on! Juz….” His strained, conflicted voice came. Not far. A sharp scream came from Arthur (it was his high pitched voice), along with a whooshing and another harsh crack. The vibrations rattled through the metal walls of the van. “Whoa-whoa-whoa!” Mystery was barking, and Arthur’s voice was moving quickly beyond the walls. Arthur may have tried to make know the panic, but his voice was constantly cut off to his heavy pants. Yips and whines came from Mystery. “Vi!” 

Vivi put her foot to the steering wheel and balanced her feet, then pulled herself out from the passenger door and out into the miserable, brisk air. She looked towards the sounds but didn’t see Arthur or Mystery, instead she saw Lewis perched upon the back of the earth spirit. The struggling entity had risen off the road while Lewis held onto its horns, the curved ends red with heat as he poured energy into it. For a second Vivi was relieved. Lewis was still here and he looked to be in good condition.

Until the nature entity flipped over sideways and slammed Lewis into the road under its pointed head. Flames spread all over Lewis ribs and shoulders as he grabbed at the thick neck of the entity and dragged it off, is hooved feet dragged at the road before it toppled over. Lewis rolled away when it staggered at him, reaching with the side of its two arms. Vivi heard a warning cry from Arthur, when the entity snapped its head up at her.

“Get down—” Arthur shrieked.

The Gollum faded into the mist, or most of it did. Lewis did much of the same, vaporized in a large burst of fuchsia fire fading outward. Vivi lost track of Lewis completely, while mesmerized by the sight of the Gollum at it prowled. Its gray eyes gleamed in its pebbled head and the road whizzed under its shape as it rushed at her, gaining momentum as its claws lashed over the road. She was about to dive off the side of the van when the shape collided with her body like a derailed train, she hadn’t realized it had gotten that close, it had just appeared.

“Viv!” Arthur dropped the bags he was carrying and darts to the lining of brush where Vivi tumbled through, he could still hear her body dragging through the loose undergrowth and soggy leaves. “No!” Mystery yelped after him as the dog gave chase. Before Arthur could lunge through the brush, Mystery had jumped onto his back and thrown him down into the pine coated soil. “Mystery! She’s hurt! Get—” When Arthur had shoved himself up and crawled forward, he saw what Mystery had stopped him from reaching. Why it was important he did not crash blindly into the thicket.

There was nothing beyond the growth of brush. The trees jutted out from the side, the soil worn and chipped, and below nothing. Nothing but treetops hidden in the fog far below.

Arthur felt his eyes bulge in his head as he stared down and down searching through the drab, thick mist. He snaps his gaze to the furthest side of the parallel mountain range, but there is nothing. A fierce grip took his chest as hot tears filled his eyes. “Vivi! No… god no! VI!”

Calm down and look. Mystery set his paw on Arthur’s good shoulder, then, nudged the grief-stricken youth’s cheek with his own shoulder. Mystery pushed his head under Arthur’s chin and raised his gaze, Arthur didn’t seem to notice the guidance at first, but his eyes did turn up.

“Shit,” Arthur wheezed. He folded down, nearly falling onto Mystery beside him. Mystery tried to push Arthur up and keep him out of the mud. “She’s okay…. She’s safe—” 

The rapid clamor of heavy feet caught his attention, and he whirled around to see the Gollum. Arthur recoiled as it galloped for him, but Mystery lurched between him and the large mass of gravel, and snarled at it. The creature hesitates, its shoulders sway and grit as it turns its head down to view the smaller dog. Arthur stares, eyes flick from Mystery to the entity and back to the dog. The nature entity sways, as if uncertain to its approach of the dog. “Myst, we… we should move.”

Mystery backed away, red eyes gleaming over the rims of his glasses. The gravel apparition crept forward and Mystery hissed between his sharp teeth. Mystery scarcely glanced back to Arthur when the human set his metal hand on his shoulder, and Mystery averted his gaze to keep track of the tall demon fabrication. Not in front of Arthur. Not again. Mystery raised a rear foot behind him and pushed it gently to Arthur’s knee and nudged the mud soaked pants leg. Arthur pushed himself to his feet and shuffled away, while Mystery continued to back up from the Gollum. The entity, gravel demon, kept its glimmering eyes fixed on the smaller creature.

“Okay…nice and easy,” Arthur edged, eyes on the entity. “Run!” He spun around and shot off. Mystery followed in the same manner, ears pinned back and head down. A soft rustling came from their backs as the creature charged after them.

Mystery barked, his breath misting in his face as he pursued Arthur. They needed their gear, all of it probably.

Arthur cursed as he pivoted, skidding over the slick road in his shoes and ducked down. He fell to his knees and clawed at the cold asphalt, his metal arm scratching as he scrambled back to his feet. He felt a rush of air over his head. When Arthur tilts his head up, he sees one large arm of the entity outstretched inches over his spiked hair. The entity faded but kept its outline as it dug its claws and hooves into the road, but fell partway into the road when it lost traction completely.

“Too close! Too close!” Arthur harped, without a glance back. He tugged at the long sleeves of the leather jacket as he came upon the grocery bag and backpack he had dropped beside him at the time, when Vivi had fallen. Mystery’s legs clack at the road, every few feet the dog glanced back as the rustling of the Gollum cut through the distant between them. Mystery barked softly. “I know! This is as fast as I go!” But when Arthur grabbed the bags and chanced a look back over his shoulder, he took on a new speed. 

Now Mystery found himself having a hard time keeping up with Arthur, as they jackknifed their course and ran along the tree lining beside the road. Mystery was partially distracted, he kept glancing up as he tried to match Arthur’s pace.

__

Awareness crawled back into Vivi’s thoughts. She couldn’t recall what had happened to lead up to her groggy, frigid state. The dull thudding pressed into her hearing, among the soft hiss of rainfall. Her hand was icy and wet and she could feel no sensation in her palms at first, which drew up alarm in her. Was she hurt? She couldn’t remember. When she shifted, she winced at the hot pain in her shoulder and felt a tight constricting around her chest, pressing her into the cool mass against her. The blurriness cleared from her eyes and she realized she was staring into a vibrant wall of pink, a satin tie if it were to be described. Vivi arched her head up to gaze at the skull above the suit collar, water droplets collect along the upper jaws teeth and drip into her face. She sees the eyes gleaming in small pinpoints within the eye sockets, but the gaze… doesn’t stare back.

“Lew?” No answer. “Lewis?” She picks up on Arthur’s scream and Mystery’s echoing barks, somewhere beyond the subdued thrum of the locket. Vivi’s own heartbeat quickens painfully in her chest, given the situation she was made present to. What is Lewis looking at? She struggles in his hold, pulling her frigid arm up to her chest and pushing, trying to find where he and she were, and where Arthur and Mystery could be now. The arms around her tighten to a painful degree, and Vivi turns her gaze back to Lewis as she takes a strained breath. “Lew. You’re hurting me.” The crushing grip pauses but his arms wouldn’t loosen. But, Vivi now had enough space that she could turn her head down to see….

Open air and trees way below their feet. Sixty feet, maybe eighty. Maybe. Her free hand grips at Lewis’ collar. The fog coats the tree tops with a thick gray shroud, and the tall pines stand along the slope below, angled, sharp.

Vivi blinks some of the water collecting in her eyes away. “You… you’re okay, Lew. It’s all right, I’m here.” No response. Not even a flicker in his dimmed eyes. Vivi found she couldn’t describe the skulls expression accurately, it looked vacant. Not frightened, but gone. 

Shut down. Lewis had shut down to a basic level, but he had enough sense in him still to keep himself suspended, and latched onto Vivi.

“Stay with me,” Vivi whispered. She wriggled her other hand free, and again Lewis tensed his arms around her. Vivi pressed her elbows into his chest as she stared at his skull. “Can you hear my voice?” she asked. “It’s gonna be all right.” She removed her elbows from his chest and raised her arms, but hesitates. Lewis made no indication he had seen or heard her at all. If his locket was any suggestion of mood, it showed nothing but from its usual soft pulsing, maybe a tinge more of tarnish and reds rather than its usual gilded quality. Vivi shoved her hands over his eye sockets and gripped his skull. “Just listen to my voice, okay Lew?” The skull jerks in her grip and the hands around her chest loosen a fraction. “Don’t let go! Hold tight!” Lewis arms remain locked around her, and Vivi clenches her own teeth tightly as she stares at the skull under her pale palms, the splash of vibrant ‘hair’ tussled over her wrists.

“Can you move Lew?” Vivi prompts, voice strained. She heard alarmed barks from Mystery, but Vivi could only shut her eyes and pray that they were all right. She took a breath. “Follow my voice. Can you do that? Don’t let go, and follow my voice. There’s safety, solid ground. Safe ground.” Vivi nearly tears the skull off his shoulders when they begin to descend, but slowly. “Wonderful. You’re doing so well, just focus on my voice. Follow me.”

“Vivi?” the voice rumbled.

“Stay with me, Lew. A little higher,” she says, glancing back. “We’re almost there. Just please, don’t drop me. That would really suck.”

“Drop you?” When they were a little closer to the brush covered edge, Vivi stole her hands back from Lewis’ skull and plastered her arms over his shoulders. Lewis lowered them down until he detected the solid rock and stood there, staring across the road. He came back to himself a little more and took note of Vivi coiled around him, legs locked around his waist, and arms twisted over his shoulders. He raised his skull above his collar a bit. “Are you okay?”

Vivi shook her head against his shoulder. “No.”

Lewis was about to ask about what had happened exactly, when a shrill cry came from Arthur. Vivi snapped her head from Lewis’ chest, and Lewis leaned forward to see Arthur not far down the road at the edge of the bridge. The Gollum had him and Mystery pinned.

“Run, Mystery! Run!” Arthur had one of the creatures smaller arms gripped in his metal hand, but it still had three other limbs to grip at his remaining arm and legs. The creature didn’t have a mouth but it was pulling Arthur out by his legs and arm, and Arthur was trying to pull himself out of its grip. “I’ll be okay! Just find… find the—” Arthur cut off as he felt the first a dull crack in his ribs.

Mystery snarled and lunged. The Gollum gave the dog little notice as Mystery darts in, one of its large arms released Arthur’s leg and lashed out at the barking dog. Distracted, the entity pulled its torso back and looked up but hadn’t a chance to react before Lewis blasted into it from the side, fire spewing from his wrists down into the creature’s thick neck. It toppled sideways with Lewis pressing it the dirt a few yards from Arthur.

Vivi dashed to Arthur’s side as he crabcrawled backwards from the gray thing and the sudden intense flames shooting out of Lewis. “Are you hurt bad?” Arthur winced to Vivi as she grabbed his shoulder. “C’mon, move then!” She dragged Arthur up to his feet. “Why are you wearing his jacket?”

“I learned from you, okay?” Arthur grumbled. He followed Vivi when she sprinted off.

Mystery whined as he limped, one front paw was raised from the black tarmac as blood seeped down his dark toes. He went back for the bags left in the roadside and plucked up Vivi’s backpack, he raised it to her as she and Arthur caught up. “I’m sorry Mystery, I didn’t see you hurt yourself.” Vivi tossed her backpack up to Arthur as he hurried by them, to the bridge. She hefted Mystery up and grabbed the water slicked grocery bag and caught up with Arthur.

Another wall of fire tore from Lewis ribs and collar as maneuvered around behind the hissing Gollum. It followed, swinging its head down towards Lewis but missed catching the dapper ghost with its horns. Lush green brushes and thick leaves tear at its legs as it thudded and bound around the small clearing under the trees, it thrashed its head with a bullish quality whenever Lewis let it get near. He had to be careful, it was not spectral and remained solid constantly, but he had found it could drag him back into a physical state through unknown means. The larger front legs slashed at the pine littered rocks, dragging it forward with power and speed. Occasionally, if Lewis let himself drift too near the earth beneath him, he could detect the loose soil sag at his feet and slow his retreat like quicksand.

It leapt high, higher than something its density structure should allow. Lewis ducked aside on a swirl of flames and skids out of the way, leaving it to collide with the trunk of a pine in his place. Bark shredded in its claws and the Gollum recovered, only to stare at the damage it had left.

While it was distracted, Lewis glanced off and took note of Vivi and Arthur as they raced across on the road. They checked him before hurrying through the overgrowth of tree branches struggling through the rusted side railings of the road bridge. A little longer, then. Lewis returns to his current project, and glides backwards when the Gollum lashed out for him. It moved fast on one gallop and caught up to Lewis, on impulse Lewis drew back a fist and struck out with a blazing punch. Fire spread up and down the Gollum’s face and neck, but the creature merely shook it off.

As before.

It was more for his reassurance than protection, but it took too much out of him. Lewis swings back and lands among the short shrubs. He gives his collar a quick fix and straightens his tie, while the Gollum crept closer, the set of eyes between its horns track him. When it’s close enough Lewis kicks off and move right at the precise moment when it crouched for a lunge, but his feet were caught in a tangle of thick mud. The Gollum drags its head up and hooks Lewis’ in the ribs, and rears back on its hooved feet heaving Lewis up out of the slick silt. Both sets of arms tear into his hips and legs, with him secure the limbs begin to pull at his body. 

Lewis scrabbles at the thick hide with claws, thick puffs of fire cough out around his neck collar. He isn’t certain what could possibly happen if he’s pulled apart, he can’t feel the pain of being broken again, but he can feel whatever ether that consisted of his physical essence drag out from him. He was losing focus, losing a sense of existence. Whatever consisted of his emotions and awareness was winking out, dislocating far around his body until he had nearly lost connection to himself. The distant rain in the pine trees became thunderous, the cold air ripped into his core. Fading. It was like fading into a null of vacant presence.

Flames tore out of Lewis, engulfing his graying suit. The Gollum gave a strained rasp as the blaze knifed through the moist cracks of its pebbled body, it swung its head until he was dislodged and it could back off. He tumbled through the wet shrubs before he managed to recover and rise up, flames and spirit orbs still drift around his shoulders. Lewis watched the Gollum as it rubbed its side into the rocky soil, struggling to douse the small crackling embers that persisted to vex its hide.

It stops altogether and rears up, as if listening for… elsewhere. The fire on it seems unaffected by the mist, but it has forgotten about that affliction altogether. He collected himself and raised up, prepared to steal back its attention, but the Gollum simply turns away. It races towards the bridge, fully ignoring him. 

A gust of embers haze away from Lewis’ skull as he streaks after it, the soggy ground sizzles as he kicks up pink sparks. When the Gollum reaches the bridge it fades and nearly disappeared completely, before it leapt up upon the roof of the bridge. It was silent as it moved, the taps of rain the only sound across the steel top. He paused beneath the rusted and hole riddled eave debating if he should chance following up there.

He decides to glide across the road of the bridge, towards Vivi and Arthur at near center setting up, beside the rail and the wall that opened up about shoulder height to view the chasm below. They don’t notice him at first and Lewis doesn’t try to warn them, or slow their progress. He tilts his skull back and he watches the roof, he strains to pick out where the Gollum might appear under the constant hiss of the rain. Would it know where, he wonders? It would have to, he reasoned, it realized the danger it was in. A cry comes when Lewis is a few feet from the group, Mystery is barking as the Gollum squeezes through the open wall of the bridge.

“Crap!” Vivi choked out. She stumbled away when the creature barely missed her when it bucked with its hooved feet. It was still twisting around, turning to Arthur as he sprang out of the way of its flying claws. Vivi hit the back of her legs at the rail beside the road and she flops backwards, onto Mystery’s back when he darts up under her to break the fall. Mystery yaps as he crawls out from under Vivi, he snags the sleeve of her wet sweater in his teeth and tugs her toward the little pine branch shrine she was working on at the base of the bridges wall. “But Arthur!” Vivi tugs back.

Arthur stumbled out of the Gollum’s path when it turned on him. He cursed as he pulled around Vivi’s backpack from his shoulder and rummaged through its interior. He knew what he was looking for and snapped a few glimpses of the Terraria as it moved at him, the Gollum’s head low near his toes. A small rise of relief filled Arthur when he found the bottle of salt, and in one fluid motion he had it uncapped and had a small circle fixed around him on the damp bridge. There was high likely hood it wouldn’t work, Vivi had warned him, but he wanted a small bit of hope, as the Gollum was bearing down on him.

Odd. It was as if Arthur had imprisoned himself in the salt barrier. The Gollum reared back and twisted its claws out, and Arthur found he couldn’t move. The shock of it all, he supposed. He was stunned, as it brought its claws down and pinned him to the road. The Gollum leaned over him and bore its weight upon his body, Arthur gave an involuntary cry as the air was forced out of his lungs.

And then, it spoke. “

#####  _"HOW DARE YOU, MORTALS, INVADE MY HOME."_

Arthur blinked at the mist in his eyes and struggled to drag air back into his lungs. “I… We—” He choked, as it applied pressure onto its palm.

Then the Gollum swung itself back with a shriek, as a high wall of flames burst around Arthur and his small salt circle. Arthur gathered himself and cringed down into a tiny ball at the center of the sizzling ring, and wonders if he wouldn’t have been better off being crushed to death. But when he peaks at the Gollum, it had moved back and took no further act of violence on him.

Maybe that was because Lewis appeared right in front of it and grabbed it by the horns. It jerked back, and Lewis followed its recoil. Crackling fire surged down its face and chest as it tried to wrench out of his reach and gore or snag Lewis with its longer arms, but Lewis had risen his body out of its grasp and up towards the ceiling of the bridge.

The movement of the Gollum ceased at once, and it stood poised with Lewis hovering above its slanted face. He was staring into the glimmering gray eyes as the light in them faded, like the shimmer of a river stone sinking into mud. Lewis released the horns and drifted back, lowering himself to the road below while the fire ring continued to cackle and spit around Arthur. The drab blotches soaked into the remainder of the Gollum’s body, turning its moist gravel skin into choppy dust. In his peripheral, Lewis could see Vivi lean on the rail beside the road to watch, as the body of gravel began to collapse into the hollow shell of its core. The dust spread into a pile onto the road and the edges of it quickly became black as they were splattered with light rain. In the center of the thinning layer was a white edge poking out.

Lewis tilts his skull to the side and glides forward, dipping forward to reach into the pile of muck. From the gray matter he plucked out a yellow and partially bleached ribcage that fit on the palm of his hand.

“Hmm,” Lewis said. He swings back away from the remains and lowers his hand, as Vivi and Mystery come over. “You think someone made this… Gollum?” he asked, out of reference. He didn’t know what else to call it.

Vivi shrugged, as Lewis flipped the remains of a body over with one finger. “Could’ve been some animal. Are there any more?” She looked to the thin mound, as Lewis made a scratchy echo in his chest.

“I’m not digging through that.” Lewis let Vivi take the little ribcage, and she with Mystery returned to the memorial that had been assembled.

“Uh… hey?” Arthur peered out through the flickering flames of magenta that surrounded him. Lewis didn’t turn around. “Can I get outta the fire crib now? I promise to behave.” Arthur gave a sigh, trying still to work the stiffness out of his lungs. Lewis waved a hand over his shoulder and the flames dispersed. Arthur sat on his knees a bit longer staring at Lewis’ back, and Lewis watched Vivi begin pulling candles out of the grocery bag. “Thanks.”

The skull above Lewis’ shoulders twitched, but he didn’t look back. “Yeah,” Lewis echoed, as his form faded away.

Arthur moved to his feet quickly, the sleeves of the jacket slipped down over his hands. “Fine, be that way,” he muttered. He pulled the sleeves back up his arms and moved across the road, occasionally checking the pile of silt as he went. “I think he's gone back to the van.” He could see beyond the bridge through the deep chasm where the trees stood in the curving, sweeping mountains. In the distance it looked like the cloud cover had opened some, but the rain fell as consistent as ever. It sounded nice now, while they were under cover.

“Probably,” Vivi answered. “I could’ve used his help though.” She set the candles down beneath the small shrine of bent and tied pine branches. “Did we leave the lighter in the van?” Arthur reached into his pocket and handed his over. Vivi gave the yellow case a short examination, before she knelt down and began lighting candles. Vivi pondered over her question, carefully orchestrating it in a manner that Arthur could not say ‘No’ to. “Could you take Mystery back?” she said. Three candles lit. “He hurt his paw.”

Arthur raised his brows, and glanced to the dog beside him. Mystery gave Arthur his largest eyes and whimpered, holding up his red stained paw. Arthur sighed and leaned over to pick the soggy dog off the road. “You sure you’ll be okay?” He was backing away already, glancing to pile of muck that had become the Gollum.

“I will,” Vivi answered. She put her hand over one candle and let the heat spread through her skin. She didn’t want Arthur to get sick, he couldn’t afford it. “Take care of Mystery. Ah, and maybe call a tow truck to get the van upright? The roads should be safe-er now.” Roads would always hold accidents for the foolish, but without the Gollum’s influence there should be no unnecessary loss of life. “Did Lew’s fire dry you out?” She smirked back at Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “A little. I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, and turned walking away.

Vivi watched him leave, a thin smile on her lips. She looked again to the lighter he had handed her and resumed lighting the candles. That was two more. Three center, three on the right, and three to the left; all in that order. When Vivi turns around, she’s startled by the person on the bridge with her. 

“It’s very nice, merci manquer,” the woman says. Her clothing is lacy and white, absolutely dry. Curls of peach hair stick out from under the large white bonnet she wears, and a sort of crocheted collar is around her neck. Vivi was staring at that, when the woman tips her hat and moves away. Vivi follows her direction, and sees a group of people waiting for her, all dressed formally in attire that does not match the modern era. Unless maybe they were going to a church. The woman takes the hand of a small boy in a sky blue suit, and the small boy gives Vivi a last look before the woman leads him away to follow her group. “Ne rester en sécurité, Bleu Moyen. Do stay safe.” 

Vivi smiles sadly as she watches the group depart. She dabs at her eye with a dry hand as she turns to take up the grocery bag. She pulls out the teddy bear – purchased on a whim when they were shopping for candles – and sets it behind the collection of candles. The rain patters and slicks down the sides of the roof, the sound distant and despondent as she stands alone upon the bridge cold and wet. Vivi turns her head, but as she suspected the odd troupe of people had gone. The road was safer, and maybe, maybe if people still used it, they would no longer see the odd hitchhikers out searching for home.

__

“They were French, maybe foreigners,” Vivi said.

Lewis hummed for a minute as he pondered. “Bleu Moyen would be,” he said, narrowing his eyes around their dark pits as he frowned, “Blue Medium.”

“Hmm. I figured it was blue something,” Vivi admits. She sat in the center seat beside Lewis and watched the darkened road ahead. The engine puttered and hitched occasionally, but Arthur had given the van a thorough check over once they got it upright. Or, Arthur got it upright. With Lewis help. While Vivi was away still, Arthur was able to get a wench system set up in the tree branches and managed to heave the van over onto its wheels. It took some time, but in the end it had saved them a lot of trouble. 

Arthur was already knocked out in the back, curled up in a nest of sleeping bags, blankets, and Mystery. With some amusement, Vivi recalled that Arthur was still wearing Lewis’ jacket, but since Lewis hadn’t made mention she figured that he knew Arthur probably needed it right now.

“Is that what you’re going to call me now?” Vivi asked. The heater wasn’t on at all, but the window was shut and she was sitting right beside Lewis.

He shook his head and smirked. “Naw. Maybe… Mi Arándano Medio. Or just Arándano Medio.”

“Is that Spanish?” she asked. Vivi glanced at Lewis’ arm as he set it on the back of the seat behind her.

“It’s Spanish,” he answers.

“What’s it mean?”

“My blueberry.” Lewis jolts a little when Vivi lies down and sets her head on his lap. She smiles up at him as he twitches, glancing down at her a few times while also trying to keep his focus on the road. He forgot to turn on the headlamps and reached over to flip the switch.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Vivi said, expressing some concern. “I’m a little run down from all of that… wildness. Thanks for saving us, by the way.” She folded her arms across her middle and enjoyed watching Lewis fumble with speaking, before he managed some audible words.

“No-no,” Lewis’ voice hitched, but it cleared somewhat as he went on. “No matter what, I wouldn’t stay idle if my friends were in danger.” He checked back over the head rest, into the vans interior as he moved his hand back onto the steering wheel. “Never.”

Vivi raised her brows a bit in mock surprise. “Really?”

“You know it,” Lewis said, and gave her a small smile.

“Okay. How about boysenberry.” Vivi rubbed at the bandage on her arm, where she had cut herself after the fall.

“What?”

“Boysenberry,” she answered. “In Spanish. How do I say it?”

“Espera dis… err…” Lewis glanced at his hands and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he considered. Then, he gave a wide smile. “Rey púrpura.”

Vivi glared up at his smug grin. “Are you being honest?”

“No….” Lewis droned out, little lights in his eyes darting off from her frown.

“Tell me. Now.” Vivi had a method for appearing intimidating, while lying on your lap, and staring at your face, all while she’s trying to seem serious but really, Lewis knew she was fighting off that grin. “Lew-Lew.” She reached up for the locket on his chest.

“Bayaboysen.” He watched as Vivi’s hand drew back to her chest, and inwardly he sighed.

She giggles, and Lewis no longer feels on edge. “Really?” she chirped. “Bayaboysen?”

“There wouldn’t be an actual translation, but this sounds more exotic.” He grinned around the words. “You like?”

Vivi cackles. “Yes! Bara Bayaboysen. Bara Bayay. Mi bara baya bae. Can I go on?” She clasped her hands to her lips and smiled.

Lewis slumps in his seat. “I should have held my voice.” He didn’t have a tongue, or vocal cords anymore, and barely had a voice as it was.

It is night now, the van rolls tirelessly through the black cage of the pine trunks curved around them on the thin road. Sometimes there’s a curious animal at the edge of the tress, usually a mouse or raccoon, sometimes a deer gazes out as the van rattles by. Lewis realizes how quiet it is and looks down at Vivi, but she doesn’t feel asleep. She’s quiet and relaxed, a bit bleary but holding on to the conscious world.

“Getting sleepy?” Lewis asked.

“Nope.”

Lewis lowers his hand and strokes her cool cheek. “You saved me. Didn’t you?”

“Hmm?” Vivi hummed. “I… when?”

The road stretched far ahead, spun around dark turns and crooked broken tree branches. Far above them the sky opened and dazzled, a thousand stars twinkling. He thought about the pit. “I got… lost, someplace dark,” he began, looking at the sky through the windshield. Glimmering, far into the deep inky black. “Your voice was there. I could hear your voice calling, and I followed it. I didn’t know what else to do. It—” Lewis came back, he twitched and turned his sight up to the rear view mirror. A skull stared back, bleached, burning ember eyes. He shifted in his seat and brought his attention back to the road. When he moved to take his hand from Vivi, she clasped it to her cheek. He glanced at her. Vivi was calm, tranquil, and there was a gentleness in her that had the capacity to tear him to pieces. It wasn’t fair that such emotion should ripple through him.

“It’s all right,” she said. “You’re gonna be okay.” Lewis snapped his bright eyes back to the road, and hid his sour disappointment easily. “You’re scared of heights.” Lewis didn’t respond, except to rub his thumb on Vivi’s chin. “I was always scared of that space under my bed when I was little,” she offered, voice soft.

Lewis huffed, and a little mist of pink spread from his skull. “This is… a little different.”

“I know,” Vivi hisses. “Jeez, don’t take it so literally, you’re worse than Arthur with playful jokes.” 

Lewis makes a sound, something sharp like a crack. The radio pops to life with some soft music, and Lewis quickly snatches his hand from Vivi’s grip to lower the volume but not off. When he tries to replace his hand to the steering wheel, Vivi steels his wrist and brings his hand back to her cheek. Lewis says nothing, but he is content to stroke the soft space along her neck. Vivi is quiet for a long time, the soft drum of his locket kept pace with the passing seconds.

“What if… you were the one that was under my bed?” Vivi asked, voice groggy. “You would do something like that, wouldn’t you? You have a spooky reputation you gotta uphold and all.”

And Lewis ponders as he strokes the soft folds of her hair, and wonders of hiding under a child Vivi’s bed. She never kept up with her room when they were kids, still didn’t if he knew her (and he was confident he knew his Vivi). Lewis had doubts that he would fit under any bed, and if he could he didn’t believe it would befit such a dapper specter all that much.

Vivi goes on, “What would you have done if I decided to confront you one night? You know I would have, it was just inevitable.”

A soft hum rises in Lewis chest as he ponders the prospect. Go back in time and haunt a child Vivi’s bed? “I think,” he begins, “I would have been very cross if a child – even you – thought it proper to confront the spirit haunting their bed, and I would have swooped upon you, and scolded you for being up at such a late hour. Then, I would tuck you soundly into bed and tell you stories all night long, until you were fast asleep. When I knew for certain that you were indeed and well asleep, I would give you a kiss, and relocate myself to the closet. Where there’s more room.” He looked down at Vivi as she lay silent, eyes shut and breathing steady. She looked asleep, but was she? He couldn’t decide. Lewis kept his soft hymn calm and smooth.

“You did that once.” The voice nearly caught him off guard, but it was only Vivi, half asleep. “When we were kids. Yeah. You hid under my bed, because it was so cluttered no one would look for you there.” Lewis made a soft chortle. He could NOT see himself hiding under anyone’s bed, even if he was a young lad again. Well, maybe Arthur’s, but that was different. Vivi yawned. “You told your parents, that mine said it was okay if you slept over, and I just told mine you went home early.” She snickers. “And the plan was to stay up all night, and fight off the monster that did live under my bed. You were ready to go at it, I was impressed.”

A little more than confused, Lewis darted his eyes along his eye sockets as he considered. “I don’t really re—” Then it came back to him.

He did do that! Just like Vivi said. At the time his heart was pounding, he’d never lied to his parents before and they were so trusting of him. But it was for the greater good, and he wanted to be Vivi’s hero. He did it for her. Lied to his parents and was ready to face a bone crunching monster, with gnashing blood drenched teeth—this is how Vivi so eloquently put it at the time.

Turns out there was no monster or ghost, or anything as they had thought. After some hours of waiting in boredom, Vivi declared the monster very rude, and announced they would make a sheet fort to protect themselves, if it came back from wherever rude monsters went. They huddled inside with a few spooky story books Vivi had selected, and Lewis read to her for the remainder of the night, until they fell asleep.

“Ooh.” Lewis winced, as if taking a blow from the memory and the consequences of their mischief after all these years. “We got into so much trouble.”

“It was worth it though,” Vivi mumbled. “And we found out that there was no monster under my bed. Just Yew,” she said, and giggled a little. She gripped Lewis’ sleeve and tugged his arm down and hugged his wrist. Lewis let her, and only kept his hum sifting on the air. 

Lewis remembered that in the intermission time, while her parents and his were sorting out the matter, Vivi had turned to him and announced the monster was so petrified by Lewis hiding in its spot, it gave up the ghost and went to bother someone else. Lewis was a hero. That had been fun, now ten years later. Yeah. Now it was fun. 

“Art’s been telling you ‘bout the good ol’days, huh?” Lewis murmured, without breaking his soft coo. The engine rattled a bit as he eased off the gas to gain higher gear. He hoped Arthur had been as thorough as said when he gave the van a checkup. 

Arthur makes an odd little sound in the back as he fumbles around and thuds to his side, or something. The interior back of the van was still a mess, but Arthur had cleared enough for himself and Mystery. It was possible he had heard his name muttered in Lewis’ voice, but Arthur resumed his heavy slumber without further noise, and Lewis let the cool ease roll through his form. The rhythmic chug of the engine whined out as the slope ended, and the van descends back onto lower lands. The thicket of pine trees cleared, the ground was hilly but low and leveled.

“He still doesn’t like to talk about the old days,” Vivi admits. “I just come up with these ideas of what we might’ve done when we were little. To compensate, y’know. So I feel like I do have something from back.” She pressed her face into his sleeve, and mumbled, “Sounds like we got into a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah,” Lewis rumbled. “But it was worth it after all.” He’s not sure, if he had skin he might’ve been, but the sense of touch was foreign to his peculiar essence now. He was accustomed to the absence, but he could remember the contrast and still revisit. He didn’t want to say anything at first, if he wasn’t certain. He could detect the warm moisture seep into his sleeve where Vivi was hugging him. “I know, Vi. I know,” he hummed.

“I’m happy,” Vivi said.

“I know,” he replies. “You can cry and still be happy. That is the best sort of happy, I believe.”

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his sleeve.

Lewis looked at Vivi, though she couldn’t see it. “I’m here.” But he began to sift through their words and only then, understood what Vivi had meant. Lewis went quiet as Vivi drifted and dozed, and finally was asleep. 

No, no. She couldn’t remember. He burned out those memories, stole them away. At that time it was all he was capable of, the bad with the good. He could accept the toll, he could sustain though knowing his actions. But, if Vivi could reach so far back, she would be able to see what no person should ever have to witness. No. He glares at the bright glow in the rear view mirror, accenting the circular edge of his eye sockets. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Vivi held his sleeve tightly. Lewis couldn’t take his arm back, but he didn’t want to anyway. It was tempting. A way. Reinforce the lock. Banish the past completely. But he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk doing what he had no comprehension or understanding of. There must be another way. When he had first done it, he had nearly… it had almost happened. But he was stronger than the call, the compulsion of whatever was beyond. The absence of everything that had mattered to him in life. Lewis could test how strong the bond was, but he would never risk it. He remembered too much. There was much he longed for in the world in a time when he had been his happiest, but the further he reached for old memories, the more distant and distorted they became.

Acceptance. That was the Fifth stage of Loss and Grief. It amazed Lewis how powerful certain words could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not decide what the thing should be, if it was a spirit or what, so its designed was based on nature stuff and I just called it a Gollum or a Terraria. What it is and where it came from is up for debate, I simply don't know.
> 
> Huh? What's that? Lew and Vi fluff? I have no idea what you're talking about, I didn't... Wait. Where'd that come from?! I swear I had nothing to do with it.


	13. Chapter 13

##### 

Brambles

Soft voices glide through the room, cutting and retuning to a new scene or tone or voice with rhythmic pauses. It was a delicate matter to set one claw to the button of the remote and press with a stiff finger, cycling through the dull white noise that made up the blubbering television theme of each channel. What was defined as ‘news’ was scarcely credible, many channels were dedicated to realty programs, infomercials that promised ‘satisfaction guaranteed or money back,’ and as always the static infused HBO special feature.

There had to be a better use for television. Humans just refused to find it, or the general population was content to numb their minds into oblivion with this toxic waste of ozone. Mystery huffed into the folds of the blanket he lounged over, and pressed his paw to the button again. None of his companions had said anything, as long as the soft background chatter remained below audible they were somewhat eased by his habit. The dog half listened as Vivi went over the next destinations marked on the map, there were a few but they had lost time after the van was put into the body shop for repairs. Mystery rolled over, sliding the telly remote along the sheet cover as he did, for ease of access and the minimal of movement required of reaching it. 

The argument between Vivi and Arthur had been typical, Arthur on the opposing side wanting no pair of hands on the van aside from his own, and Vivi adamant about getting the exterior of the van patched up. Lewis had been like Mystery, huddled outside in the parking lot where it was relatively safe. In the end, Arthur had folded under the assurance that nothing within the vans metal hull would be tampered with. That had been the case of course from the beginning, even Vivi didn’t want the off chance of strange people poking through the vans back, and seeing the mess that none of them had made the effort to pick up. There was no concern shed over the ward scripts, carved stones, and endless containers of sage and salt stashed in the cuvees – all over the floor. Long ago Vivi had given up any attempt to explain these items to the inquisitive outsider.

“But the baseball stadium sounds more interesting,” Vivi said. She and Lewis had the selection narrowed down – a hospital, a maternity store, and a bed and breakfast that was on their route. Mystery personally preferred the bed and breakfast, and they might just stop in along the way since it was literally on one of their roads. “A batter ghost? Why is he there, and who is he?” She scrolled through one of the tabs she had opened on the main page, there were a few pictures but nothing clear, no definite image of a spirit aside from a gray glob that could be easily be explained as lens flares or rudimentary odd shadows.

Behind her hovered Lewis, just above the head rest of the hard chair she had claimed. Mystery had caught Arthur glancing over at Lewis a few times, from his position on the opposite side of the one bed. It was probably difficult for him to wrap his mind around the sight, with Arthur being the analytical one of the group, struggling to rationalize whatever science there was into a free floating body. To describe it, imagine bungee cords that are not visible, Lewis’ body was parallel of the floor but suspended a good two feet above the headrest and peering over Vivi’s fluff of blue hair and into the computer she held on her lap.

“What’s this activity about?” Lewis inquired. His body dips down, folded arms coming within inches of the headrest above Vivi. He spoke aloud before she could read off the page, “‘Seen after games end on the field, sometimes caught in the stadiums big screen.’ Groovy.”

“There’s speculation he, or she – we don’t know – they could be a fan,” Vivi continued. “There’s a case where one of the spectators suffered a concussion from a free flying ball, but they never went to the hospital and by the time they realized how serious the concussion had been, it was too late.” She shifted in the uncomfortable seat, and Lewis raised himself a foot more reflexively. “They could be trapped there or something. What do you think, Art?”

Mystery recoiled from his leisure sprawl when Arthur jerked on the bed. “Who- what?” Arthur sputtered. He had met eyes with Lewis, when the free suspended body had shifted so Lewis could see him better. Vivi kindly reminded Arthur the subject they were discussing, and Arthur set aside his notebook as he thought it over. “Batter ghost sounds the most low key, but what about the rumors?”

Vivi tapped at the laptop, and Lewis shifted to view the key words she searched for. “There are all the usual grainy shots, most caught when there’s a game. Lots of people, lots of cameras going off?” She rubbed her finger over the scroll pad quickly, eyes flashing behind her magenta glasses. “There are a few post game pics, but they don’t look any more better.”

“We could do with another low key investigation,” Lewis chimed in.

“You liked the ‘Owl Widow’ ghost?” Vivi accused, half a smirk on her face. The Owl Widow had been horrifying as hell, but she was all bark and no bite.

“I can sympathize with anyone who would terrorize people that would hike all the way out to my house, to wreck the furniture and break the windows,” Lewis grumbled. “But… she had such a gentle heart. After all those years, it’s a tragedy.”

Vivi sighed and sank down in the chair, she pushed the laptop higher up onto her knees for Lewis viewing ease. “She’ll be okay,” she persisted. “Decades gone by and she just keeps on protecting those owls.”

Mystery folded his wrists together and pinned the remote under his lower paw. Those that study the occult would recall a myth which went, when a person and an animal die in each other’s company the souls are bound, and if the trauma of the event was powerful enough, a spirit would return. The people of the town spoke of a young birder who had a favorite owl she took out to train. It was believed that hunters may have mistaken her for some animal and shot her, and her owl, or some variation of the scenario. Murder was suspected but due to lack of evidence ruled out, and the case was never solved. However, not long following the incident hikers and campers began to tell stories about an abandoned home in the area, where dozens of owls would congregate to roost, and at night the shrill cry of a woman or a shrieking owl was heard within. Few would dare stay in the home, and those that attempted only made it a few hours into the evening before the ear splitting shrieks would drive them out into the night.

The Mystery Skulls had no problem with the Owl Widow and even believed the rumors false, until they as a group ventured up into the unexplored attic where the owls roosted during the day. Vivi had no way of hailing the spirit, and the Owl Widow was as feral and skittish as any bird. When the Owl Widow realized she was discovered, she abruptly vanished without a trace. Later, Vivi learned that it was the local’s thrill seekers sport to stay in the home or try to draw out the Owl Widow for a good scare, and that was commonly done by vandalizing the home. This disgusted Vivi and she refused to do anything more that would negatively affect the spirit.

Arthur climbed off the motels bed and gave Mystery’s head a warm rub as he waked by. Mystery took his cue and climbed off the bed and followed his companion to the door, where Arthur pivoted and stopped him.

“Stay here,” Arthur urged, motioning the dog with his metal hand as his other hand took the door handle. Mystery sat down and tilts his head as Arthur backed out. “I’ll be back in a gif, I’m just gonna check the laundry.” Mystery raised an eyebrow as Arthur turned away and shut the door between them.

“Hurry back, then,” Vivi answered. Mystery glanced her way as she resumed scrolling. “It irks me though.” Lewis hummed in question and Vivi continued. “This would be a lot of work running around, for one ghost. Stadiums are huge, unless we find a binding object.”

“What’s the info on our subject?” Lewis asked, and pointed to the screen. “Is there anything? A name?”

“We could just use any old baseball I guess, if that’s what caused their death.” Vivi was clicking links, hunting for a newspaper article in the cities historical database. “There’s a lawsuit, but when s’there not? Mystery.” The dog looked up at Vivi when she called his name. “Arthur said he wouldn’t be gone long. Don’t worry.”

“That link there,” Lewis cut in, pointing to the un-highlighted title among the few darker cousin links on the screen. “I got a good feeling about that.”

“Keep your socks on. I got it.” She clicked it and the two read silently to themselves.

Mystery shrugged his shoulders and returned to the bed. The layout of the motel room was as basic, dry, and boring as the thousands they had the privilege to stay in before – table, armchair, lamp, vanity desk, single bed – a picture print of a pasture with deer grazing in the tall grass, a distant lake and tall trees surrounding the scenery – framed and hung on the wall above the bed. Mystery stretched out over the tussled sheets and adjusted his thin ankles over a stiff fold of the covers. He raised the volume only slightly and resumed his meditation through channel surfing.

“There was also this guy that overheated and died while in the mascot costume,” Vivi mentioned. “You’d think he’d come back as some sort of demon bonded to his costume.”

Lewis often wondered over Vivi’s unique style of thinking. “What was the costume?”

Vivi fixed her hairband, then put her hands back to the keyboard and scrolled. “A badger?”

“The stadium no longer sounds low key?” Lewis humped. He rolled sideways in mid hover and folded one arm under his neck, as if to support his head by some invisible tabletop. “None of the reports remark on any aggression, accidents?”

“No, you big chicken.”

“Bawk-bawk,” Lewis droned, void of any enthusiasm. “Is it too much to ask that we return to cases where some… angry thing doesn’t come crashing out of the shadows with a huge chip on its shoulder? Have I mentioned, I would like that?” He nods, as if agreeing over an important matter.

“Well…” Vivi let her voice trail off, and glanced up at Lewis. They had those cases too often. Failed cases she categorized them. The encounters which were too volatile for traditional techniques and it was advised by any veteran paranormal investigator, that if you have no training in that particular field, you have no right to meddle with it. In those instances it is strongly advised to pack up and book it rather risk harm, or worse. It was another topic she wanted to ask Arthur about, but she wouldn’t bring it up with Lewis since he was in that realm himself. 

That place, it would have been one, it should have been a Failed case. They just didn’t recognize the danger in time. Another notch, a proud scar in their resume. They never failed a case, but often the case did fail them, and she had failed them.

Packed up and ran away. No matter what danger they left to those that came in their wake. Let the experienced, the demon hunters, deal with it.

“Huh?” Lewis asked, slanting one dark eye at her.

Vivi gave her head a shake and returned her attention to the screen. “I thought of something. Anyway,” she paused, noting she had exited out of some of the history articles. “Just a bunch of sightings. Nothing threatening.”

“Great,” Lewis chirped. “What were you thinking, then?”

“I was wondering,” Vivi mumbled and curled down into the chairs back. She looked up as Lewis peered down at her, prompting her to go on. “Well….”

“Well what?” There was something in his voice, something that had been absent until recent. Vivi had only realized it herself, but his voice was sounding more natural, vocal rather hollow. Solid as if projected, rather than suggested through the vague scratch of an outdated radio. The slight transition had been lost to her, while in constant company of her subject. She wondered what sort of voice outsiders heard when Lewis spoke with them, or were they oblivious? She could ask Arthur how much Lewis’ voice had changed. “Vi?”

“Are you aware you’re floating?” Vivi looked between Lewis and the floor, through the back of the chair she was nestled in. “Can you do that intentionally or—” She winced to the audible thud that came. “Uhh….”

“I was not aware,” Lewis’ garbled voice came, somewhere beyond the chairs back. “Thank you for notifying me.”

“Explain that to me.” Vivi set the laptop down on the seat cushion and stood up, to peer over the chairs headrest. “How can you not realize you’re free floating?” She pulled back and sat on her knees when Lewis poked his head up, skull in place of a face, and he resumed a buoyant hover above the floor.

“I’m kidding,” he said, as he fixed the jacket collar. Lewis felt his face, recognized the common distinction of solid spectral that symbolized his skull. “My concentration broke— I knew I was, but….” He fumbled, voice breaking off into scratches and he gave up. “Hard to explain.” He winced and looked up to Vivi when she set her hand on the side of his skull. The embers of his eyes brightened, most noticeably in Vivi’s glasses as she smiled at him.

“I get it,” she hummed. “I’ll try not to do that again.” 

Lewis let his gleaming eyes dim and fall away from her tender gaze. He pressed his cheek into Vivi’s palm and let his ethereal essence sooth out, calming from the choppy ripples that dug through his usual insubstantial eminence. Passive waves rolled through Vivi’s aura, strong, vibrant, and cool. No wonder she had such power over the spirits; how could she not? It was compelling and desirable, more than the once strong call that had persisted on him in that early time. As the days ticked away the call became less, and less vibrant, until the draw had subsided into faint tugs; unpalatable and easily ignored. Bleu Moyen. High blue waves to dose his fires, severing his ties to the ravenous fury and blind ambition. So clear. Everything became so crystal clear when he was with Vivi.

A low shudder burned in Lewis, when Vivi leaned over the headrest to kiss the upper edge of his jaw. His eyes brightened in their dark sockets and a wisp of flame faded as Vivi drew back. Lewis didn’t want to lose her, he could scarcely recall that time of the between. He only wanted to believe his feelings were genuine.

An interesting segment was on the history channel, describing ancient magicians of centuries past. Mystery turned his ears up as the narrator described a priest of the pharaoh whom became famous for cutting the heads of various animals, and that animal would function normally, walk around, but without a head; after some time the priest would restore the head to the creature and it would resume life as normal. This spectacle was never performed on a human, never a servant, the priest would always refuse, and what matter of the illusion was never discovered, though attempts have been made to recreate it. 

By the programs end, Mystery was on his side fully content to watch out the conclusion. No animals were harmed during the making of the program. A hollow promise, but it had some effect of easing him a little to see the message and be reminded that some humans did care. He rotates his head over to see Vivi more or less in the chair, she would be in the chair if Lewis wasn’t under her. They had resumed discussion of what case was more favorable, but softer, as if Mystery wasn’t there. He took a deep breath and let the air wheeze out of his nose.

Wait.

Mystery rolled over, off the bed and padded to the door. He sniffed along the edge picking up Arthur’s most recent scent, and pawed at the scuffed up white paint of the door. Mystery whined and looked up to Vivi and she peered over the computer in her lap, down at him.

“What’s up, Mystery?”

He barked and sidestepped at the door. Arthur. How long has Arthur been gone? Mystery resumed scratching at the door, and reared up on his hinds legs to take the L shaped handle between his wrists.

“He should’ve been back,” Vivi paused as she looked to the clock on the laptop. “Forever ago.” She stood up off of Lewis and crossed to the vanity desk, where the telly was stationed. She unplugged the computer, shut it, and stuffed it into her overnight bag on the desk. She fished around for the room key as Lewis raised up from the chair.

“Maybe he had to re-dry the clothes,” Lewis suggested. He stepped up beside Vivi and set his hand upon the shimmering surface of the mirror, and stared into the steady state of his skull and bright eye sockets. He had worked on this off and on, he could ‘jolt’ his state back into his more favorable appearance with a flash of a thought. 

“Or he could’ve gone for a walk.” He briefly examined his face, the stubborn dark eyes, then turned to Vivi. “Clear his head. Think for a bit? He’s been really quiet lately.”

Vivi’s attention was directed past Lewis, toward Mystery standing on his rear legs. Mystery had tottered backwards with the door following his movements, and was now stepping out. The door began to slip shut, but stopped when Mystery blocked its progress and gave a bark at them to hurry. “Mystery doesn’t like to be away from Arthur for too long,” she said, as reason. “I worry about him, I have to.” Mystery ducked out of the doorway when Vivi stepped over to him.

“I know.” Lewis snatched his sunglasses off the table as he followed Vivi out the door, and into the blazing sun of midafternoon. Way past noon, the sky was getting the dusky soft purples that Lewis appreciated. He wanted to converse with Vivi about the one time when the group managed to get hopelessly lost and spread out around the motel, only because they kept following each other around the main office building, with a length of the wall distancing them apart. What messed them up was that they were just barely in ear shot, they could hear the nearest person but in all the confusion they never got it across, “Stay right there, I’m coming.” They had run around in circles all day, but the scenario was straight from a cartoon and they had great fun anyway.

He decided not to encourage the memory. It wasn’t so much for her benefit, but the thought of it pained him worse than….

“We just barely ate an hour ago,” Vivi mentioned. She and Lewis followed Mystery down the steps and through the small hallway that cut between the two halves of the motel. As per destiny, the nearest convenience mart was adjacent to the motel. Night or day, it didn’t matter to Arthur when he drank an energy drink. Hell, he’d drink one before taking a nap. Vivi would check there next. “You didn’t have to come.”

Lewis gave a sheepish smirk, missed by Vivi. “Well, you didn’t stop me.”

Vivi could smell the warm scent of the dyer heaters as they walked along the wall to the laundry room; beside the kids play area, and the gated and tarped pool. She pulled the door open and let Mystery and Lewis enter before she followed them into the cramped room. “Not here?” she spoke, as she moved into the adjoining room with the washers and laundry detergent vendor. 

Mystery’s paws scratched and clacked on the cool tile as he wandered around, sniffing under a table and then at the edge of a wall. He turned to Vivi and gave some soft barks that echoed, unintentionally loud, off the walls. Arthur hadn’t been here lately, but with all the oddball scents it was a trial to discern accurately a time.

The dryer was still thumping and rumbling. Lewis examined the timer and found it had fifteen more minutes. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, can I have the room key so I can get this stuff up there?” he asks.

“Sure.” Vivi pulled the car key out of her wrist sleeve and handed it over to Lewis. “We’ll see you back in the room in’a bit.” She waved to Lewis as she returned to the glass door, Mystery scratched over the slippery linoleum to catch up with her at the door. “Chao.”

“Good luck,” Lewis answered, as the door shut. A few minutes drift by and a thought occurred to Lewis. When Arthur stepped out, Lewis wasn’t certain but he didn’t think Arthur had picked up the laundry bag. If Arthur had come to the same conclusion, Lewis might run into him on his way to or from the room.

 

The room was still empty of Arthur and provided no insight of a short return. Vivi shut the door and took the opposite path along the rooms, her eyes scanned about as she walked, in hopes to catch the faint blur of yellow contrasted on the open car lot below. Mystery padded at her heel as they took the route for the back stairs that ran above the main office. Below, a group of kids laugh as they race by, shoes slapping on the hard cement. Vivi tottered at the rail trying to catch sight of the jovial youths; maybe Arthur was down there lost in his own thoughts and mildly discomforted from the innocent play. It seemed like the situation he would be tossed into when he craved some seclusion. The sounds fade somewhere, and if Arthur is below she cannot see him from the angle she’s at above.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Vivi murmured. She paused on the steps to look out from the narrow arch and scanned the clear sky, the moist tinge still on the air from the recent rains. “There was a park when we rode in, wasn’t there?”

Mystery stood sideways on the steps and stares at the sky. He gave a soft yap.

“I know this deal with the van put us on a tight schedule, but we can do with a lil TLC.” She continued down the steps, and Mystery followed. “We’ve spent so many weeks cooped up together, I forget what open air feels like.”

The road that cut through this section of the city was not very busy, even throughout the day when people would be busy with errands. Vivi with Mystery crossed to the nearest shop mart with the highest gas prices she had seen in a hundred miles. Down the sidewalk from their current residence, it was only a few blocks among the stores and cafes to the open flat of the body shop where the van was being adjusted. The body shop was only going to fix up the ragged sides where the van had fallen and scraped, part of the deal was allowing Arthur to do the paint job himself. That would leave the van looking half finished and metallic until they returned to home base.

As Vivi pushed the door of the convenience store open, a blast of balmy air hit her. Immediately the clerk at the cashier counter piped up:

“I’m sorry, miss. No dog’s allowed.”

Vivi let Mystery in anyway, and Mystery went on his way examining the racks assorted foods, and the doughnut case positioned across from the cashier counter. “He’s a therapy dog,” Vivi answered.

The cashier, a tall woman with curly hair, hesitates as she looks back to the white dog free of a leash. “Do you have papers?” She seemed uneasy as Mystery sniffed along the corner of the tall doughnut case. In Mystery’s defense, the doughnuts smelled exceptional that day.

“That depends,” Vivi rebuked. She turned from the woman and looked over the near empty store, a few people drift around picking at the inventory in various sections – sweet, salty, and standard household goods. “Did you see a guy come in here? Shocked yellow hair, quail curl, orange vest.” She turned to the cashier and the blank stare the woman wore. Vivi motioned her elbow. “Metal arm?”

__

Indeed it was a beautiful day. Arthur was glad he had stepped out to enjoy it, get some fresh air. He hoped the van was all right, he hated the thought of strange people putting their greasy hands all over his pride and joy. Even if the van liked to break down in the harsh weather conditions, or guzzled gas like a leech did fresh blood, they didn’t pay for it. He never asked how much it was going to cost, but Vivi had been the one driving at the time and she always insisted on these matters. Arthur gave up trying to fight her about it long ago.

He sighed and leaned back into the cool wall in the stores shadow. It was cold only in the shadow, but standing in direct sunlight had warmed his chest too much and so here he stood in the shade, listening to the children in the nearby neighborhoods whoop and holler in play. He put his hand back in his pocket, pushed the pack of gum aside, and pulled up the chainless pocket watch. Four thirty-nine. The laundry should be done by now, he didn’t want a collection of his pants in bacon ripple style. Sickly yellow, bacon ripple style… whatever.

The watch went back in his pocket and Arthur brought the cigarette back to his lips for another draw. His eyes half closed and he let the sizzle work in his throat. Two more minutes. He calculated the time up in his head, two more minutes coupled with the walk back to the motel—, he forgot the bag. Get the bag, go back down and collect the freshly dried pants and shirts. Or he could forget the bag, have five more minutes to let his blood mellow.

“Arthur!”

He jumps in place and turns to Vivi’s accusing stare. “Hey. I didn’t worry you, did I?” he rasped. Arthur took another breath and looked down from Vivi, to Mystery huddled behind her legs. When Vivi began towards him, Mystery turns and bolts out of sight. Arthur backed up and hit the wall. He gets out a vague question as Vivi slaps the cigarette out of his metal hand. “Whoa now! What gives you the right—” He shut his mouth when Vivi grips the front of his shirt and heaves back a fist.

“You promised me you quit!” she snarled.

“I did! I DID!” Arthur tenses but makes no move to defend his face. He probably deserved it.

It was on the prescription, among the long list of drugs compiled into his blood to keep his kidneys from shriveling up, his heart pumping, his capillaries clear of toxins. They worried about toxins in his blood. Arthur had laughed that day, it was so out of character they had to call in a psychiatrist to evaluate whether or not his brain had suffered mental trauma that was not foreseen since his earlier evaluations. Oh what medical science was blind to; oh what they were willfully ignorant of. The only person that might’ve gotten the joke, wouldn’t have gotten it anyway. That cruel irony made looking at her twice as difficult for the remainder of the month, but he found his way out of it.

The doctors advised Arthur to quit, obstructed capillary networks was what they labeled it. It was common in amputees.

“Was this your first pack?” Vivi growled, tugging Arthur towards her.

He choked and spat out a no. “I’m gonna stop though, I will!” he stammered, leaning back. Why was Vivi so strong? Arthur was no heavyweight, but she could pick up Lewis when he was alive. “It always helped, with the… it just helped!”

“We have sage!” she hissed, face twisting, tears brimming in her eyes.

“But that’s so rude!” Arthur cringed down fully expecting the blow to connect and knock some sense back into him. He bought gum and sometimes chewed that instead, but it wasn’t the same. He’d show Vivi once she calmed down. He was hauled forward, staggering through the dark shade of his thoughts and awaiting the flash of light from her fist to cleave through his mind… but the harsh blow never comes. Instead, soft arms wrap around him. Arthur risks opening his eyes and stares down on the weed riddled pavement behind her blue heels. His muscles remained locked, he didn’t dare move even when Vivi’s shoulders quivered. Arthur clenched his fists at his sides and rested his chin on the poofy sweater around her neck.

“I should have asked,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “I should have asked you.” She squeezed tighter around Arthur’s chest, as if fortifying his presence with her embrace. “Why didn’t I?”

“You…” he began, and hesitated. Vivi said nothing, hadn’t calmed down, and Arthur went on, “already knew the answer. Nothing’s changed. This is fine.”

“No, it’s wrong.” She pressed her forehead into the collar of that stupid amber vest Arthur always insisted on wearing. “I wasn’t thinking about you, I wasn’t worried that…. Jesus, I don’t think.” How could she forget? Why had she been blind to this? For all her intuition, her flexible and quick mind, how could she overlook such simple, yet crucial details? Essential, yet fragile. Delicate, but poisonous. A balance that tipped dangerously. 

Arthur brought his arms up and wrapped them around her shoulders, gently. “Vi, we’ve talked,” he insists. “I told him I was solid. I don’t have the right—” Arthur froze again when Vivi recoiled and pushed him back by his shoulders.

“That’s not an invitation!” She snapped. “That’s submission! That won’t do.” Arthur let his head hang, but Vivi cups his chin in her fingers and pushed his face up. “No, Art. Look, I’m not mad, I’m frustrated. Well, maybe that’s not the truth. I’m mad at me, not you. But— Would you look at me! I’m frustrated, that’s it.” She stares into Arthur’s face as his eyes crease and his brows stretch, into a conflicted expression she was too familiar with. “You’re not allowed to destroy yourself. Are you listening?” He nods, and tries to let his eyes drop from her steady gaze. “What did I just say?”

“Don’t wreck myself,” he mumbled, below a breath.

“That’s good enough, I guess.” Vivi sighed, and raised a thumb up to touch the lone tear that had made it past Arthur’s resistance. “How do I save you? How do I save my boys?”

“I miss Lewis,” Arthur says. He shuts his eyes and begins to slip down to the cold ground, his knees fold up under him. Vivi helps him down, pulling at his vest and trying not to grip the upper space of his left arm where metal met flesh. “I’m keeping it together, pulling myself back.” Vivi kneels in front of him and pulls him upright when he begins to sag sideways over his knees. “I’m not gonna fuck this up too. I can do this.” He shuts his eyes and presses his metal palm to his forehead in an effort to cool his fevered brow. “I can do this. Just… just give me some time, and I’ll work it out.”

“Hey.” Vivi brought her hands up and clasped Arthur around his forehead, his shocked blond hair folded under her palms as she held him. Arthur tucked his eyelids shut and winced to her touch. “Don’t push yourself so hard. It’ll… you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I know my limits,” he murmured. Arthur feels his heart being ripped in two, skewered by icy teeth and shredded across his ribs. “I can endure. I can.”

“Don’t give me that,” Vivi hissed. “You’re not impervious to— Art, wait!” Arthur had ripped himself from her hands and managed up onto his feet, stumbling a bit as he spun away from Vivi still crouched on the broken asphalt. Vivi hopped to her feet and followed his stabbing steps. “Art’ur!” She jerks back when he whirls on her.

“I’m not fragile, Vi! God, I’m not going to come apart and scatter in the wind.” Arthur screams, his body movements erratic as he gestures with his hands; the prosthetic arm is dull and awkward while he’s amid a state of distress. “My legs are strong, my mind’s still here! I’m okay! Just… chill.” He motions his arms, bringing them down to his hip level as Vivi watched. “You don’t trust me? Do you?”

Vivi searched for something else to focus on, and settled for the edge of the motels roof beyond the corner of the convenience store Arthur had hidden behind. “Sometimes you forget Art,” she says. “You’re so focused on anything else, you avoid the little things.” She shakes her head and then looks back to Arthur. “I don’t want to forget for you. I can’t drag you down.”

Arthur stuffs his hands into his pockets and toes at the crumbling cement, trying to dislodge a thick stubborn stalk of a wilting weed. He recollected on Vivi before the Cave, ambitious headstrong Vivi, always leading the way. Lewis always right there for her, to grab her and pull her back from the edge of disaster when it suddenly opened up in her path. And Arthur… him, always a step behind, the last one into the room, always lagging behind the others. The first to run, or the one somehow caught.

“Vi,” he says, “you never dragged me. If anything—” He stopped, and looked up at her. “You brought me back. You were there when I woke up.”

Vivi doesn’t meet his eyes as she moves towards Arthur. She takes him by the wrist of his metal arm and pulls the hand into hers and examines the stiff, numb digits, Arthur had carved himself. “I wasn’t always there,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to be there. Art?”

“Hmm?” The air became chilled when a cloud, or the sun, had inched behind some obstruction that blocked the strong yellow rays. He couldn’t feel Vivi’s fingers tracing the mars and etches in place of his metal palm, he could only detect the vibrations he had grown accustomed to when faint touch fell onto his false limb. When he had built his first prosthetic and attached it, Vivi had never taken a second look at it. He had always been gratified by this. 

“We should look for Mystery,” she suggests, and tugs him by the wrist with no force applied. “I think he went this way.”

Arthur followed without protest. “We should talk a bit.”

“We’ll talk a bit,” Vivi echoed, leading Arthur behind her by his hand.

“It’s such a nice day, or was,” Arthur muttered, and squinted at the darkening contours of the sky.

Vivi led their way towards a dark alley behind the convenience store, chain link fences and the clay floor packed down, overgrown with trees and weeds. It looked more interesting and secluded than the open sidewalk beside a road. “I thought we could hit the park tomorrow.” Vivi’s voice brightened a bit.

As they departed the wall and Vivi’s voice twittered with the prospect of a day for just them, a dark shadow rose across the glossy paint of the brick. The shadow seeps from the walls surface and reforms itself, bright magenta illuminates along its outline and spreads across its torso and legs. A gilded heart pulses at the broad chest as the dark hue fades by degrees, until it is restored to its pacified shape.

Lewis took a step from the wall and leaned back onto it, he crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Vivi and Arthur disappear down the alley. He thought of following them and making certain Vivi was safe, but he decided that may have been a lame excuse to eavesdrop on following conversations. He’d… done enough of that.

“ _What happened to us? I mean, why did we let this happen?_ ”

Vivi’s words rattled in his mind. He remembered Arthur then, catatonic, sleeping. His aura had been in its most indolent in that state, and Lewis had for a moment believed Arthur had died, if not for the shallow movement of his chest.

The questions plagued his deepest contemplations, alternating, “ _Why did we? What happened?_ ” As if she were before him now asking the same question, inquiring for some form of answer he too yearned insight into. There remained the questioned he flittered away from, the ones that he could ponder over for long hours, while time held him prison to witness superficial events from afar. The locket thrummed at his chest, always steady, sometimes thunderous, and then at other times its as somber as a coo. The questions in their most basic function nibbled at him: What and Why?

He had only meant to frighten them. Get them to abandon his mansion and force them far away, never to return. Leave him to sleep and forget, and fade away with each pulse of his heart. That was his intention, he swore it was all that he meant to do. He was incapable of killing, unlike Arthur. But something… had gone wrong. It had happened so fast and Lewis couldn’t bear it. The ache in his cold heart when he saw her for the first time since….

He said goodbye.

Why he remained far past his expiration was never a controversy for him. The question that stumped him when he was not careful, and it came upon him when his defenses were down: What was he now?

Lewis rounded the corner of the convenience store and walked across the parking lot. He saw Mystery on the sidewalk beyond the gas pumps waiting for Vivi, or him, he was on the sidewalk beside the crosswalk marks that bridge across to the motel. The dog perked up at Lewis’ approach, and Lewis said nothing until he reached his four legged ally. “How’s it going?” Lewis rattled, his voice near toneless.

Mystery’s answer was to tilt his head and lower one ear at an angle. He stood and pivots to cross the road, glancing around for any speeding traffic; there were no cars but Mystery was careful to look anyway. He spins about when Lewis begins to walk off, and Mystery pads up to follow at a distance.

“I’m not going back to the room yet,” Lewis explained. “Vi and Art are looking for you.”

Mystery’s steps slowed and he fell back. That didn’t make sense, any one of them knew without a fail that if he was separated from his company, he would either turn up at the van or the current place of occupation. He gave his head a shake as he resumed his quick pace, struggling to keep up with Lewis long stride. It was evident Lewis was in no hurry, but Lewis probably wanted to be alone and Mystery knew he couldn’t allow that.

They came to the busier district of the widespread city. Mystery recognized it down the road from the motel, an easy to and from for some of the better diners and the cafes. Arthur was impossible when it came to the prospect of being stranded, and the distance to a place for a worthwhile cup of coffee. Mystery woofed at Lewis’ back. Lewis didn’t need a reminder that he was out in public, and not dressed for one on one interactions. Numerous shops throughout the city block catered to tourists, featuring carved wooden animals, jewelry, or rugs and quilts. The small clumps of people they passed would give Mystery odd stares, and Mystery began to wonder what for. It wasn’t unusual for people to stroll around with a ‘pet’ off the leash, was there a city ordinance he was not aware of?

Then it dawned on him. No shadow was cast under Lewis and he had no reflection in the shop windows. Lewis was hiding.

This didn’t alarm Mystery, if it was Lewis’ wish to go unnoticed then he was entitled to that. For Mystery matters were complicated. Head up, chest puffed out, ears proud and forward facing. He had someplace to be and that was where he was headed. He observed that humans rarely bothered a dog with confidence, minding his or her own business and on their way to wherever dogs go. What humans did not trust was a timid, confused, lost creature that scuttled away from attention or drifted around. If he kept moving it would make tracking him difficult. Even so, he had his collar and tags and people would regard that and conclude he was just a regular out for a walk. He would be fine, and he had some notion of Lewis’ destination.

As predicted they arrived at the body shop where the van was left. Show Car Remake and Renew, a general garage and minor vehicle repairs. The main garage was a long gray building with a few windows along the uppermost walls, and the large shutter doors at the base drawn down and locked for the evening. The far side of the lot was overnight parking, the cars and trunks caged in by tall barbed wire fence. Mystery followed Lewis to the fence but was forced to wait, as his transparent companion slipped through the metal links and entered amongst the many vehicles.

Mystery lost sight of the ghost as his tall figure weaved around the portion of large vehicles and trunks. Mystery spun around and looked back to the road as the first streetlamps snapped on, cars sped by and after a short time of waiting the street quieted. It was getting late, the air grew colder. He sat down and gave the spot behind his ear a dedicated scratch, working to straighten out the hair bent there. He tensed when a white utility trunk drove by and seemed to slow down – at least to Mystery it looked like the vehicle was stopping – but no, the truck sped up and the dog let out a sigh. Never was the best time to run off and get lost somewhere in a strange city, with strange people, and strange beliefs.

Vivi and Arthur would be wondering where he was, if they had managed to reach the room by now. They shouldn’t worry, but Mystery admitted he was not immune to dangers, or the mild irritations offered by the few humans he could do without meeting.

The sudden awareness of a presence at his back caused Mystery to twist around. It was only Lewis, slipping through the large chain links in the fence. Mystery examined him over and noted the piece of cloth tangled in his hand. Ah.

Lewis looked at the cloth between his fingers as he untangled it. “Are you still afraid of me?” Mystery raises his snout higher and glares through his spectacles at Lewis. “Would it be enough if I apologized?” He unfolded and refolded the cloth and straightened out the creases to the best of his ability. It had been folded and pressed wrong for quite some time. 

Mystery give a soft woof and steps back from Lewis. They should head back now. The dapper specter wouldn’t budge.

“You were there for Arthur,” Lewis whispered, traces of flames bud from his shoulders and hair. “But not for me. Why not? Why is it…?” He tightened his fist around the sad piece of cloth, “Why did I have to be the one abandoned?” He looked down when Mystery stepped forward and set a paw on his foot, the white face looked up at him. Before Lewis could utter a word, Mystery had whisked away and was already halfway across the parking lot, the faint tapping of his claws fade as the ghost stares after him.

He could have just haunted Arthur. Or he could have remained in his mansion, his sanctuary from the world ticking by with the tempo of the seasons cycling through, worlds moving; moon sweeping through crescent to quarter, harvest and back to the new moon. What time had passed while he had slumbered? Existing but not in a state of present, not dispersing but not fully cumulative either. A piece of himself was lost in every wedge of every day, not noticed and not missed. Small segments of his childhood, the places they frequented as kids, the warm smiles of his parents. How could he miss what he couldn’t reflect with? It may have been a process of Acceptance, or it just happened naturally. He ceased to worry, and he couldn’t care. The lethargy of simply existing drained him heavily, and he fed on the lone coal of his passion, his raison d'etre. What purpose, and what meaning had come to him, when the cycle of existence had evicted a squatter?

It was Mystery’s aura that had stirred him. That wild, untamed thing – a font of composer and class, with a writhing tangle of insanity that clawed for escape. He would know it anywhere, it was the last, and first thing he had latched onto before the fulcrum of his final volition had scattered. He didn’t remember much in that span of time between… before….

The light of the motel room was out. The curtains were drawn shut, as Vivi had left them, and the walls would be absolutely silent, if not for the dull rattle of the heater. Night was well upon the motel now, and Vivi and Arthur would not be far behind it. Without a thought Lewis pushed his palms into the cracked stucco of the wall, and allowed his unsubstantial shape to slither through the cold molecules of cheap drywall and plaster. Mystery gave a soft yap at his back as he faded, and then, the room was opened up before Lewis. The interior air warm from the buzzing heater in the wall, bags and a few essential supplies sat in grainy detail along one wall, the bed was overtaken by blues and yellows. Lewis turns back to the door and pulls the handle, but stood in the way when Mystery tried to nudge through and enter with him. Lewis picked up the piece of cloth he had dropped, but paused as Mystery searched for a way around him.

Somewhere in the parking lot below the walkway, Lewis could pick up on the soft warble of Vivi’s voice accompanied by the timid tones of Arthur’s speech. “Hold on,” Lewis murmured, as he shooed Mystery out of the threshold. “They’ll let you in, but I have something to do real quick.” Mystery stiffened when Lewis gave his scalp a comforting rub, an action Mystery was unaware of how much he missed. Mystery stepped away when Lewis straightened up and shut the door.

What… just happened? 

Mystery whined. That was not fair! He scratched at the door and sniffed at the crack along the frame and listened for the muffled sounds from behind the door. He tugged at the handle, though he knew the door couldn’t be opened without a key.

“What up, Mystery?” Arthur was the first to ask. He stepped behind the dog and raised his knuckles to the door, rapping gently.

Vivi leaned down and hugged Mystery around his shoulders, plucking him up off his front feet as she rocked him. “Did Lew leave you outside?” Mystery whined and stared at Arthur, pleaded at Arthur’s back with his eyes. “I’ll talk to him about it, and we’ll fix this.” Mystery strained his whimpers, and Vivi took note of that tone in his voice. “D’you have a key, Art?”

“Hmm? Yeah, sure,” he muttered, as he began digging through his pockets. Arthur found the thin plastic card easily, and with one swipe the red light on the handle lock flicks to green. “Lew?” He asked softly as he pushed the door open, intent to enter before Vivi for once. “You left Mystery outside.” The heater of the room chattered as it stuttered off, and the dark plain before Arthur was left with the reverberations of its silence, along with the strange emptiness of the room. The scarce glow of the few streetlamps outside tumbled around his shoulders as he stood in the doorway. He was startled only briefly by his own reflection in the mirror, directly across from the doorway. “Damnit,” he gasped, and clutched at his chest as his heart pounded behind his ribs.

“Lew?” Vivi chimed in, as she and Mystery pressed in behind Arthur. She shuffled to the tall lamp stationed in one corner of the room and flipped the light on, coating the walls and floor with its pale white coat. “Are you here?” She had the impression that he was hiding for some reason. Vivi brushed past Arthur and crossed to the bathroom at the furthest side of the room. Mystery followed, sniffing along the bed and the corner of the wall. 

There was nothing in the bathroom. The light blazed harshly over the white walls and plastic floor, a few bottles of shampoo sat around but mention nothing of guests. Vivi was usually comforted by the fragrant soaps, but she had only noticed them now when she was uneasy. It didn’t feel right. The bathroom heater came on with the light, but the air retained a chilled quality. The whole of the room felt reticent, inhospitable.

Vivi shut the light off and stepped out. She felt unnerved and was not certain where this sensation had crept out from, but it was there and she couldn’t shake it. She heard the door shut as Arthur entered fully, he cast his eyes over the walls and the short carpet as if anticipating Lewis to pop out from a surface at any given moment. Arthur sprang in place when Mystery poked his head up from the opposite side of the bed. Vivi shared a look with the white face, then their sight feel onto the bed. 

The scent of fresh laundry overpowered the room, and Vivi with Mystery examined the shirts, skirts, and pants laid out over the bed covers where they wouldn’t wrinkle. Further evidence of Lewis’ presence was not visible, aside from the large leather jacket draped over the back of an uncomfortable armchair. On the table rests the room’s twin key card, beside a pair of dark purple sunglasses. There was nothing to suggest anyone had been in the room recently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read a few fics where Arthur smokes, and headcanoned that he might've startled the habbit to deal with the stress of constantly being harassed by hostile spooks and things. The cigarette smoke also helped because for whatever reason, spooks and things didn't like it, like they wouldn't like burning sage. 
> 
> Hey Lewis.
> 
> I was lamenting that I haven't really done Mystery's perspective, but I'm really iffy about anything involving Mystery given I don't know if he is a talking dog/kitsune, if his friends know what he is, why he's there and such.
> 
> Anywho, thanks for reading and all that good stuff.


	14. Chapter 14

##### Roses Wilt

“He did not!”

And that was the end of the argument.

The fumble and shuffling continued in the back, while Arthur listened, staring out the front windshield of the van and at the park across from them. Vivi was methodical about organizing their large inventory from the motel room, or she wanted to bury herself in the distraction. The black box had not been in the van, as they… she hoped. He kneaded his fingers into the soft fur of Mystery’s mane, trying to sooth out the soft jerks in the dog’s body as he snoozed in the sun. None of them had slept well that night. Then, at the crack of dawn they got the call that the vans hull was finished. Arthur had barely squeezed in his shower, due to Vivi’s firm insistence that they go and go now. The disappointment in her face had been a harsh blow to the steady escalation that everything would be fine, the mounted hope and assurance in a fragile pyramid, only to watch the precarious structure topple and plummet onto the indiscriminate gray slate of concrete below. He had never seen anyone so dismayed by a cleaned and organized vehicle.

“It’s okay, bud,” Arthur hummed. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything get ya.” Mystery’s quivers stilled for a bit as his body relaxed. After a few seconds the dogs eyes squinted up at Arthur, and he gave Mystery a fond smirk. “Bad one?” Mystery pushed himself up on his arms and climbed up onto Arthur’s lap, staring intently into the youths face. Arthur leaned back somewhat when Mystery began licking at his brow. “Yes-yes, I’m good, thank you for checking.” He pushed Mystery away.

“I can feel him, I swear,” Vivi muttered, as she leaned over the bench seat. She began pulling apart the stack of their work backpacks and personal bags, and found suitable spaces for them behind the seat. “He hasn’t gone anywhere, he’s just not here. This is so frustrating, I can’t even.” She reached over to pet the bleary eyed Mystery, seated in the middle seat. “Why would he do this?”

Arthur kept his comments his own and only looked down at his metal arm, catching the harsh slant of light piercing the window. There had been no indication Lewis had been fatigued through their travels, and the subject never came up. Even so, it didn’t mean, it wouldn’t….

“What do we do then?” Arthur asked, instead.

Vivi folds her arms over the seat and set her chin down on the folds of her sweater. She gave it the question silent ponder. “He’s here,” she grumbled.

“I believe you,” Arthur stuttered.

“That idiot.” Vivi buried the lower half of her face in her arms and glared. “A note. How much effort is it to write a note?” Arthur fought his instincts to speak up and console Vivi, but he knew nothing spoken would benefit her woe. The situation brought the fresh memories of when they had visited the mansion in the first place, when Vivi began to remember a Lewis. Irritation burned in Arthur. How dare Lewis do this to her. “He could’ve just scrawled down ‘arggghhh,’ anything, a sad face. You both are childish.”

That perked Arthur up and he twisted to Vivi. “What? Why me?”

“You refused to talk,” she explained, gesturing him with a hand. “Or wrote messages to each other, I could have been the courier. I could’ve read them to Lew.”

“You just want an excuse to do the whole, ‘He’s Majesty the King Arthur’ thing.” Arthur took his voice to a higher octave, and jiggled his hands above his head. Mystery barked at his odd gesture.

“I won’t deny that.” Vivi rests her head on her folded arms again and stares sideways at the dashboard. “Lord Grumpy pants.” Arthur chortled lightly. He tugged at the door handle on his side, while Vivi mulled over in her mind and Mystery sat watching the playground and a group kids playing on the slide. The door creaked and Arthur winced as he pushed the driver door open. “Where you going?”

“A quick walk,” Arthuer answered. He pulled the door open more as Mystery clambered over the seat and hopped out with him. “Will you be allright?”

Vivi tilts her head and smiles. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

Arthur nodded and shut the door. Through the window he caught a glimpse of blue as Vivi tumbled over the bench seat and stretched out, her blue hair poking up a few inches over the windowsill. Arthur rubbed at the back of his neck as he spun away, and began walking along the thick grassy knoll. He glanced at Mystery as his companion trotted along side him.

Laughter raised from the slide as the children raced and climbed around the playground, not far from the play area a few adults sat on the park benches watching, or on their phones browsing. Though the sun was out the air was still chilled and Arthur shivered whenever a thick gray cloud swam by the sun, he tightened the edges of his vest around his chest, while hoping his movement would warm him. 

“I’m glad for your company,” Arthur muttered, “But I would have rather’d you stayed with her.” Mystery kept his pace, as his gaze tracked a small butterfly fluttering along the lush grass. “She always seems so sturdy and headstrong, but it’s her only defense. Once that breaks… it’s hard to watch.” Mystery was galloping to the butterfly as it glides and ascends, but paused to turn back and look at Arthur. “I’m afraid to ask, but would you be able to track him?” 

Mystery shifted his footing on the soft grass and gave it a thought. He shook his head, and returned to the butterfly as it descended to a dandelion. 

“Thought it was worth an ask.” As he walked by the dog, Mystery raised his paw out to the small insect. “I don’t remember which road it was we took that got us to his mansion in the first place.” Arthur dug around in his pockets, he found his lighter and he found the cigarette pack. He gave the kids on the playground a short look as he patted out a small white stick. “Oh, but it faded though, didn’t it?” He lit the cigarette and puffed on it, his eyes were downcast as Mystery trots by with a butterfly on his head.

A few of the playground kids left with their parents, and the park became quieter by degrees as the day spun by. Arthur walked and breathed at his cigarette lightly, following Mystery as he weaved across the park. He didn’t care if Vivi caught him smoking, her concerns were elsewhere.

The butterfly departed Mystery and began its swooping flight, and Mystery had followed for a while trying to keep his little friend above his head. Arthur stepped up to the base of a tall gray tree trunk and sat down with his back pressed against the cold bark. The chase soon ended and Mystery returned to his human, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted.

“Have fun?” Arthur chirped. Mystery growled at the cigarette. “I’ll put it out in a little bit. Fair?” The dog pulled his ears back and raised the fur up along his neck, but he stepped aside and lay on one side of the tree trunk near Arthur. “That’s not downwind.” Rather raise himself and move Mystery kicked with his back leg, at Arthur’s knee. Arthur dusted some of the loose grass from his pants and adjusted himself where he sat. He took the cigarette from his lips and turned his face away, as he let white mist curl past his upper lip. A chilled breeze weaved through the fibers of his thin shirt and he shuddered. He drew his knees up and curled his arms behind his legs.

Or maybe it was the memory. Arthur turned his eyes up to the blue sky and the dark clouds, fleeing from the thought in the twisting roll of smoke in his eyes, but it persisted. It was something he wanted to ask Lewis about, but Arthur felt he was being paranoid. Justified, but paranoid. 

 

“Wait? Do you have to sleep in the coffin?”

Lewis sort of grimaced at the question and looked at Arthur, and Arthur thought maybe he gave Lewis a sort of glazed look. It was their first night on the road, in a motel room, and after sixteen solid hours of driving Arthur was barely conscious of Vivi’s heels kneading into his back. The morbid question twisted in Arthur’s head before he recalled, Lewis was not like them anymore. 

“But… do you sleep?” Vivi inquired, gently. She was dressed already for bed, a thin blue top and dark blue sweatpants. She lay back on the pillows piled behind her, beside Lewis but not close to him. “Am I being too impersonal?”

“No,” Lewis chattered. “You’re just worried what kind of mischief I would get up to while you guys slept.”

Vivi smirked and hit his shoulder. “I wouldn’t put it past you. But I was wondering the past few days, if you ever slept?”

“I can rest?” Lewis drawled out, as if the phrase lacked meaning to him. “I have to take short periods to just, I don’t know, relax?”

Arthur didn’t catch Vivi’s next question, but he remembered Lewis giving him a foreign stare of some indecision. There was a span of time that Arthur recognized later, but when he awoke hours later he didn’t understand it. The room was dark and Arthur felt like he was upside down, one side of his hip was asleep and the blankets they brought from the van were tangled around his middle. He had been struggling with his arm in his half-awake state and only came to fully when he couldn’t just rip the arm out of its socket. With a sharp twist of his fingers, numb from the fight he had endured, the metal prosthetic clunk to the floor under his head, and Arthur was able to claw his way back up onto the side of the bed.

As he rolled into a more comfortable position, he caught sight of something that chilled him. In the corner of the room beside the television, hovered a ghastly white face with shimmering hot eyes. The dull thrum of his heart pulsed in his ears. Arthur felt himself falling into that perpetual pit beneath the stairs.

He didn’t want to make known his discomfort, and had thought the entire thing a bad dream; he had them often. Some nights he’d wake up, restless, that uncanny sense of being watched tingled in his blood, and sure enough if he braved a look, there was that bleached face. It could have just as easily been his paranoia, the image of that skull burned into his retinas after the first night he awoke and those smoldering eyes were staring down into his own. That was the moment Arthur had been certain that Lewis was capable of killing.

 

“Did he think I was going to hurt Vi?” Arthur posed. He breathed in the faint traces of smoke as they faded. “Did he think I was some kind of monster? Was that it?” The cigarette was nearly gone, but maybe he could get two more puffs off it. His head was beginning to hurt. “I wonder myself, sometimes.” He raised his hand and opened the metal fingers, the soft hiss of the motor escaped in the wrist and knuckles.

Mystery raised his head from the grass and yapped at Arthur.

“It’s hard for people to have positive ‘healthy’ thoughts,” he hissed at the dog. “Especially when you don’t want your friends to know about the pills. And don’t you mention any of this to Viv.”

The dog scooted closer to Arthur and pushed his snout against his knee.

Arthur rubbed the cigarette out on the back of his metal palm. He dropped the crumpled stub on the grass, then shifted over and reached into his pocket. Mystery growled and pushed his paws onto Arthur’s leg, but Arthur only pushed him off and pulled the small bundle of cloth from his pocket. “Maybe ghosts are just inherently bad at communicating,” Arthur muttered, as he examined over the bright colors of the cloth. Mystery moved to a sitting position and stared at the item Arthur held. “Did he want me to give this to her? Was I meant to?” He pulled the folds back and revealed the locket under the pale light dimmed behind a cloud, the gray tinge made the color of the metal appear faded, sorrowful. “I don’t understand. This isn’t… it’s not supposed to be like this.”

As if he felt something, or suspected a presence, Arthur turned his head up and scanned around the knoll and trees. The playground had gone silent since the remaining children left with their parents, and the clouds had thickened in the sky. It would probably rain or snow, or both.

Mystery winced when Arthur slammed his metal arm against the grass, a thud vibrated through the soil. “I can’t do this!” Arthur spat. Mystery leapt to his feet and bit the shirt sleeve of Arthur’s good arm.

Calm down. He leans into Arthur, the tugging had taken Arthur by complete surprise.

“Arthur?” Vivi jogs the remainder of the way to the two, just as Arthur recovers and sits up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Arthur wraps the locket up and stuffs it back into his pocket, then climbs to his feet and dusts off his pants. “I was just venting.” He doesn’t meet Vivi’s eyes when she bent down to greet Mystery, and paused when she saw the cigarette stub in the grass. She picks it up and looks it over. “I’m working on it.”

“I didn’t say anything.” And Vivi had not looked at him yet.

“You didn’t need to,” Arthur retorts, dryly. “What time it is?” He follows Vivi when she turns and walks away.

“Getting there. Think you can manage a meal?” Vivi led the way across the park, beside the empty playground. A gust of wind blew through the surrounding trees, causing the leaves to chatter with the excitement of a storm. Arthur gave a soft giggle, some of the charge in the air made him giddy. He straightened his face when Vivi looked back at him and cleared his throat.

“Maybe just a milk shake, and fries. When was the last time we ate?” What was the last thing they ate?

“Bagels, the day before,” Vivi replied. “The park has wifi, and I found a few posts about some activity in the area.” She paused, Arthur waited suspecting she had more to add than her insatiable urge to preoccupy her thoughts with her obsession. “I managed to sift through the historical stuff.”

Arthur hunched his shoulders and made to put his hands in his pockets, but instead wrapped his arms over each other. Was it possible? She couldn’t be thinking. “Any luck?”

Vivi fixed her hair under the blue hair band. “Some really bad youtube vids, none credible. You wanna drive?” She was already moving around the vans front to the passenger door, and Mystery followed. It hurt in Arthur’s chest when he spied her climb up into the van, he could see her through the windshield as she double checked the interior of the back, just to confirm. “We don’t… have anything of Lewis’, from before?” Vivi asked. “We have the sunglasses, and the jacket, but those won’t work.”

Arthur pulled the driver door shut and scooted Mystery aside on the seat, when the fury body snuggled in close to him. It was colder in the vehicle than outside in the wind, and he found himself glancing into the back to make certain himself the black box was not there.

“No,” he mumbled. “All of it went back to his parents.” It. Was. A. LIE. But he couldn’t tell her, couldn’t admit to her face that she had unknowingly given away some of Lewis’ belongings while Arthur had been in his comma. He gripped the steering wheel and managed to still his hands. Mystery whined and the sound of it, though dismal, did comfort him. “Are we really going to do this?”

Vivi still had not given him a direct stare, she was lost in planning, working out a puzzle that perplexed Arthur at every turn. Vivi had a magical way of seeing the crevices that he had missed, it never ceased to amaze him. “We’re gonna try— No. We’re going to do this, and we’ll find him. He has some explaining to do.”

The line reminded Arthur of the old _I love Lucy show_. The roles were switched, but it was oddly fitting. A small smile worked into his face. Poor Lewis.

Arthur plucked the boo charm from the cup holder and twisted the key in the ignition, he reveled as the harsh roar of the engine rumbled through the carriage. “Where do we go first?” he posed.

Vivi chewed at her cut lip. She hadn’t given it a chance to heal since they were in the mountain pass between Knoxx and Ruben. There were a few areas of new activity, areas that had taken an accident in the previous years or where renovation work was revealed in an article. It was an agreed suspicion that once dormant activity could kick start again, if work or destruction was brought to a place that endured trauma through the past. Vivi had her doubts in these cases, she classified them as historical recurrence but she and Arthur would visit them anyway if they ran out of leads.

While Arthur drove, Vivi held the laptop on her lap and petted Mystery as she scrolled and searched, never satisfied by the information she had gathered. The first stop was a small grocery store, among the shops and businesses on the opposite side of the city. Vivi was dubious about the recent sightings reported and some of the security footage uploaded over youtube, but it just seemed like a place Lewis would go to if he wanted to run away. Arthur noted she never considered their ghost returning to his mansion, but they had silent agreement that this option may not have been one for Lewis.

They were going to talk. They would get this settled. Vivi promised she had her ways, and if Lewis was shadowing them now Arthur doubted the ghost would have the courage to reveal himself.

Arthur didn’t blink when Vivi took a picture of the vans back. She gave a disgruntled sigh as she heaved the passenger door open and dropped down onto the empty street. After he had the doors locked, Arthur found Vivi at the back doors with her provision bag, deleting images off the camera. How many did she take?

“Which store is it?” Arthur asked. He turned when Vivi pointed, and Mystery began trotting off in that direction. The wind picked up as Arthur followed Mystery across the street to the stores front, he pulled the edges of his vest tighter around his sides and nearly regretted his disdain for long sleeves. When they entered through the door wedged open, the man behind the counter raised his voice to the group with the dog. Arthur simply raised his hand as he walked by and didn’t give the cashier a second look. It was probably rude, but he found some positive with his prosthetic and he was going to exploit it when he could.

“Oh,” was the downcast sound the cashier made.

Vivi took the lead, taking Arthur by his sleeve and began moving down one of the aisles clear of shoppers. The store was larger than it appeared from outside, its interior department going up a set of steps and into inventory that included some shirts and shoes, and pants. “Maybe you should consider buying a coat?” she put, as Arthur scanned over the beige walls surrounding them. “The weather report said there was a high chance for snow, and miserable. I know you haven’t liked the cold much since….”

“My vest is fine,” he said. Arthur rubbed his metal thumb over the collar. “It’s stylish.” He watched Mystery creep under the low hanging shirts dangling from the low racks. He looked up towards the edge of the ceiling and saw the cameras. He waved to one. “Lewis isn’t here.”

“Maybe we should have asked the guy at the front.” Vivi raised her camera and took a few pictures. She brought the device back to her line of sight and examined the image carefully, occasionally asking Arthur’s opinion as they hiked around the aisles. “You getting anything, Mystery?” A dry arf came from somewhere, that oddly sounded more like someone imitating a dog than a dog’s actual bark. “Mystery.”

“Can I help you with anything?” Vivi whirled to the voice, and tucked the camera behind her back. Arthur took one look at the figure and bolted, he tripped over Mystery in one of the aisles and a sharp yelping came as the two ran off. Vivi spun to try and find the two, but they had gone. She didn’t understand why, unless Arthur had seen something else? “We don’t allow bags in the store.”

“I’m sorry,” Vivi said. “Uh, I was looking for someone.”

The man was heavy set but not tall, he shifted his footing as he glared at the blue haired girl. “Well, your friends just took off,” he said. Vivi stared at the dark pits of his eyes, a soft emerald glimmered at their center. “Would you collect them and anyone else with you and leave?”

“I will,” Vivi answered, disappointed. She began to move along the row of shirts and pants but paused and turns back. “You’re… are you afraid of me?”

The ‘employee’ crinkled his face up in confusion. He spoke slowly, “No… why would I?”

“You were- Er, nevermind.” Vivi shook her head as she walked away. “Did you see which way my friends went?”

The cashier at the front of the store didn’t seem surprised when Vivi came by. She bought a brand of incenses that were hard to find in most stores, and a few of the cold packaged sandwiches from the refrigerated section.

“So when did the haunting start?” Vivi asked, as he began scanning the items. The cashier twitches and dropped the box of incense he had lifted to the scanner. “S-sorry. You know about it, though?” 

The cashier cursed under his breath as he reached down to retrieve the thin box. He stood up and smoothed out his bright green apron when it had bunched up around his waist. “Yeah-yeah,” he grumbled. “The owner released the vids, and I’ve been dealing with weirdos all week coming in just to see if they can ‘have an experience.’” He air quoted. “He just did it for the attention.” He made another disgruntled sound through his nose as he resumed scanning the items. “People lately have been on the ghost kick.”

“Wow, sorry,” Vivi grumbled. She fumbled with her backpack and found her wallet. She could see the employee that hassled her in store, now poised between a few racks of postcards and not doing much, but waiting for her to leave. The cashier didn’t seem to notice or care, and Vivi cast her eyes to him as he began bagging her purchases. “Has business boomed?”

The cashier laughed as he jammed his fingers at the keys on the cash register. “No. Theft has gone up though. I really should have asked for your backpack, but I don’t dare. I’m not paid enough for this crap.” He set his hand over the receipt slot as the machine burbled and belched out the thin piece of paper. “Thanks, and have a nice day.”

“You too. Wait.” Vivi spun back from the open door. Outside stood Arthur with another cigarette and Mystery, on his hind legs trying to snap it out of his hand. “Who’s the ghost supposed to be? The previous owner?” The employee, the spirit with the green eyes, was absent.

“I don’t know,” he said exasperated, and rolled his eyes as he leaned on the counter. “I don’t even believe in this ghost bs.”

While Arthur was distracted by Mystery hounding, Vivi tapped him on the shoulder. Arthur whipped around and Vivi motioned for him to take another draw. Arthur did, a little perturbed by how easy it was to manipulate him. When he moved his arm away from his lips, Vivi took his wrist and tore the cigarette from his fingertips. “That was a complete bust,” she muttered.

Arthur watched as she crushed out his last cigarette. “I didn’t think he’d be there,” he said.. He ran his metal hand through his hair and let out a tense breath. “That ghost. Freaky eyes, freaky vibes.”

“Just a disgruntled spirit,” Vivi chimed in. “Totally harmless. We’ll go to that restaurant next. Have a sandwich.” She shoved the bag into Arthur’s chest, and he noticed then that she was carrying another package. “The chickens for Mystery.” 

Mystery jumped when there was a mention of chicken. He hadn’t eaten and had forgotten in all the confusion, he should have mentioned something sooner. It wasn’t good for his comrades to go so long without food, especially when they were stressed. Especially for Arthur, he never recovered well.

“Why are we eating before we go to a restaurant?” Arthur inquired. “Is it super snobbish?”

Vivi shook her head as she walked away. She stuffed the incense into her backpack with the wallet, then began working on peeling open the stubborn cover to the sandwich container. “I felt bad not buying something. Plus, you look thin. Just eat.”

 

The restaurant, a family owned business that made fresh Spanish soups and pastries, was another disappointment, and it was possibly the hardest on Vivi. They parked in the shady trees in the back and braved a scatter of icy wind and rain droplets, hoping for a story of something, and Vivi attempted to get one image of a lingering spook, but it wasn’t to be. Arthur wasn’t hungry after the sandwich, but Vivi and Mystery had another meal and ordered a round of deserts. Throughout the break Arthur watched more and more of Vivi losing hope and he had no remedy for it, though he tried to find something, some upbeat words of wisdom that would rekindle her. He didn’t bother opening his mouth but for idle conversation, and that was dismal as it was.

_Lewis. You ascot wearing dumbass._

The sky had cleared somewhat while they were indoors, the sidewalk was dry and the sun was out but the air maintained a brisk pre winter chill. As they walked beside the restaurant to the back lot, Vivi caught Arthur by his vest collar and collected his attention. “Art. You’d… we did have Lewis with us, right? I didn’t dream up this crazy adventure… I’m not losing my mind? You would break it to me, brutal but honest, wouldn’t you?” In her eyes there was something that crushed Arthur’s heart, something in her stare that made his blood run cold. Doubt. “We found Lewis in the woods, and we kidnapped him? We had him?”

Spots of icy water dotted his brow, though the sky remained yellow with the large break in the clouds. This wouldn’t have been good weather for spending at the park, Arthur reflected. He glanced at Mystery as he turned back to them, a small frown on the dogs snout. Sighing, Arthur took her hand and clasped it in his. Her fingers were like ice. “Vi. You had him.” He resumed walking, Vivi beside him, her head nestled down in her thick scarf. Vivi let him lead her and they were quiet. “He stayed for you.” Mystery sprang out of his way and trotted along, a few cars zoomed by on the road. 

“Then why did he leave?” Vivi unlocked the passenger door and let Mystery hop in before she followed, dumping her bag on the floorboard of her seat. Arthur didn’t look up as she leaned up and checked the interior of the van. “I trusted him, I believe in him. Why do this?” She slumped down on the seat and tapped her fingers over the camera she held, her brace against the emotions.

Arthur winced as he climbed up into driver side, and gathered himself then swung the door shut with a soft click. “It’s me,” he murmured. Arthur slung his metal arm over the front dash above the steering wheel and slouched forward. “It had to have been me.” He rummaged around in his pocket and found the crumpled pack of cigarettes. “I drove him away. I didn’t think it’d bother him that much, or just… I wanted to pretend it wouldn’t. It… it couldn’t.” He swung around and threw the packet into the back of the van. A soft thud sounded where the paper hit the wall, ineffective and pitiful. Mystery glanced back, then drew down into his seat and stared at Arthur.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Vivi whispered. “He should’ve told you.”

“I killed him.” Arthur leaned on the door and set his forehead on the window. He said no more.

The drive back to the motel room was nearly uneventful. Nearly. It was necessary that in their depressed induced apathy, the local law would take it upon itself to help remind visitors with out of state license plates that seatbelts were entirely necessary. As per the routine it took a while for the police to call his associate, and look up the data and the papers for the van. Arthur half expected them to have them get out so the van could be searched, but it never went to that point. The cop that had been called out, asked Arthur about his arm and Arthur had just shrugged. 

Throughout all of this Vivi kept to herself, unless she was questioned directly. She’d look up, give an unreadable expression, and return to the camera.

“I’m giving you a citation,” said the cop. He sauntered up to the driver side window, the way cops do for whatever reason when they walk up to the suspect’s window – back straight and knees locked, sort of swaying top heavy. Arthur didn’t get it. He wrenched around in his seat when Vivi jumped a bit and looked at him wide eyed, then turned away. “For the failure to comply with city ordinance, and having an unrestrained pet in the front seat.”

Mystery yapped. Arthur rubbed the back of the dog’s neck, and reached with his other hand to take the ticket. He idly noticed that the police officer was watching his metal arm. “You weren’t wearing a seatbelt either,” Arthur muttered, to the dog. Mystery whined at him, and shuffled aside to sit closer to Vivi. “Couldn’t let us off with a warning?” He shivered visibly as the air came cold again, sweeping through the open window. They’d been stuck here for too long, for nothing.

The cop, a stout chunky guy, shook his head. “Quotas coming up,” he said. At least he was honest. “You can pay it at the courthouse.” He said something to the other garbled voice that came through the walkie-talkie on his shoulder, then returned his attention to the group inside the vehicle. Other cars raced by on the road, and Arthur was glad he didn’t have the cops job. “You know where the courthouse is?”

“We have a computer,” Vivi spoke up. “Is there anything else, sir?”

The law enforcer adjusted his belt and tipped his hat. “Just drive safe. And remember to wear those seatbelts.” He tipped his hat, then turned to meet up with his colleague beside the two patrol cars, lights flashing a few yards behind the van.

Arthur gave a heavy sigh as he turned the ignition in the van and let the harsh roar of the engine fill the carriage. He hastened to get the van window up and block out the persistent gusts coming stronger. “Every other town,” he grumbled, as he handed Vivi the gummy sheet of paper. He always said that every time they were pulled over, and without fail they were pulled over in every other town. “Is it bad?” Vivi didn’t answer. She only took the sheet and stuffed it into the glove box, then slapped the little door shut. She sat quiet for a moment, and Arthur withheld further comment.

It was only when they reached the motel that Arthur realized why Mystery was giving him the weird looks. He sat behind the steering wheel, trying to put together in his head what Vivi was thinking now. “Uh…” Arthur moaned. “We checked out this morning? Didn’t we?”

That same dawning realization flashed briefly in Vivi’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “Doesn’t matter,” she piped.

“Doesn’t matter?” Arthur echoed, glancing at Vivi as she dived over the bench seat, Mystery following. “Do you plan to stay in this city forever? I mean, what are our plans now? Viv, love, darling—” He bounced on his knees, turning to face the dark interior behind the seat as Vivi went rummaging under the passenger seat. “I don’t wanna think about it either, but what are we going to do? If Lewis isn’t even here, if he’s hiding- whatever! I’m beginning to think this search is hopeless.” He watched as she booted up the laptop. Vivi sat on her knees before the computer, as she fumbled with the camera. She pulled out the flash stick and inserted it into the side. “What?”

“You remember that restaurant?” Vivi was scrolling her finger on the little pad. Beside her sat Mystery, he leaned close, red eyes intent on the screen. “You weren’t traumatized by the police, were you? You do remember the restaurant?”

“Yeaah,” Arthur answered. “But the staff said they never saw anything. Why would they lie?” He saw Vivi’s lips twitch up in the gleam of the screen.

“Afraid of publicity. Anything,” Vivi muttered. Her fingers did some wild tapping over the keys. “I didn’t see it because I wasn’t looking in the right area. I was looking into the visor, but I should have been looking inside the picture.” Mystery’s ears snapped forward and he raised his eyes brows. “There were a few mirrors. A slim chance.” Vivi plucked up the computer and turned the screen to face Arthur; he felt his face pale. “When I get my hands on him,” Vivi trailed off, voice hoarse, a dark irritation clouding her eyes.

A small part of Arthur felt sorry for Lewis. But he lost it immediately as he stared into that dark face in the mirror, the shape and angle off from the direction the shadow had hidden itself, but Arthur knew that pompadour anywhere. The gleaming eyes in the face were fixed on him in the same way, as those many restless nights he awoke and he felt the uncanny sensation of someone looming beside his bed.


	15. Chapter 15

##### 

Steal Life

The light went out and he was left in the dark, disoriented and spinning. He heaved another breath trying to find a point of tolerance, a slim wedge of comfort though impossible as it was in his given position. He tried shutting his eyes but somehow that made it worse.

He wasn’t sure how long he was suspended in the dark since the light went out. It could’ve been seconds, it felt like hours. If only he could get a hand free, maybe… maybe, he didn’t think he’d be able too. He lost strength quickly as they waited, admiring their stuffed turkey until the scene became dull and they went somewhere, probably inside to escape the night. When they finally left him, he tried then to get his hand free but after an hour already his head was pounding from his inverted suspension. The black static swirled in his peripheral and a distinct ringing began somewhere behind his ears. He could barely make out the sound of the trees groaning as the wind picked up, rustling the cool green leaves above and below as the sun faded.

Arthur let out another strained gasp, trying in vain to keep circulation rolling through his muscles despite his position. All his organs pushed inside his torso, crushing his lungs and heart with each passing second. The air was sharp on his back though it was summer, when the sun descended the temperature dropped across the open woodland. Probably colder with his blood dragging through his veins, what with how tightly they bound his wrists and ankles. But of course they didn’t want to risk him getting away, he could sympathize with that.

They were fucking lunatics all the same.

He tried again to loosen a wrist, he could feel his skin rubbing but he couldn’t budge his hands through the rough rope. Another harsh groan wheezed out of him, and he wrenched his knees and swung lightly beneath the knot. An eerie creak came from the large branch that suspended above his feet, not unlike that of a hangmen’s tree. Arthur held still as he swayed, listening as the wind picked up through the leaves. He wrenched his arm at his back when something brushed over his neck, and with irritation he realized it was only a leaf.

Only a leaf.

Rustling came from the ground, he couldn’t remember where the ground was and he couldn’t see but for dark shapes huddled somewhere below. He kept silent and still, with nothing else in his arsenal of defense. He’d play dead. There was movement, a flash of something strong and blurry. He heard something. Arthur listened as the sound came again, a low rasping voice.

“Arty?” the deep voice rang. “You there?”

“Sometimes,” he mumbled. It felt like he was spinning, but he could still see the light as it brightened. Vivi’s camping lamp, with the soft blue glow. “I’ve been busy.”

“That’s good,” Lewis went on. Vivi stood in the halo of light beside him, giving the area beyond Arthur a critical glare. “I thought maybe you got caught or something. How should we get him down?”

“I don’t want to leave him,” Vivi said. She cupped her lips in her hand and flecked her eye along the trunk. “It wouldn’t be so bad if you were right side up, but what point would there be to that? Are you holding out?”

“No. But take your time, I’ll just hang around.” Arthur listened. He could hear something rustling through the grass not far, and the light from the lamp caught those frightening red eyes and the flash of a white shoulder as it prowled. A small whine bubbled in his chest, a happy sound. “How was the headmasters lounge?”

Vivi held a lighter and Lewis had his pocket knife, he shined the lamp between the two items and they glistened as he and Vivi muttered over them. Occasionally she fiddled with the backpack strap cutting on her shoulder. “Some documents, nothing really incriminating,” Lewis murmured. “The rope will absorb the heat and you’ll burn him.”

“Then you stand on my shoulders, I’m not going to risk cutting him,” Vivi grumbled. Lewis kept the knife sharpened, but she knew if Arthur’s hands were still tied then the rope was bound very tightly.

Lewis clutched the knife in his fist and shook it in her face. “I’ll stand on Mystery’s shoulders if I have to,” he was barely able to contain his irritation, and Arthur was now only waiting to see if they would draw attention to themselves first. “But you’re going to burn him… Is that nylon, Art?”

“It’s a rope,” Arthur mumbled, his voice trembling. “And it’s tied around my wrists. That is the extent of my knowledge.”

“You use ropes all the time,” Lewis said. “Or are you handcuffed?”

“I am tied,” Arthur sighed. “And if I was not delirious with blood rushing to my head, and my skin numb as fuck, I would clarify the ropes nature, Mr. Pepper.”

“Language,” Lewis hissed, with a grin.

“Give me that.” Vivi pulled the pocket knife from Lewis’ hand and snatched the small camp lamp from his hand. “If I even scrape him….” She trails off, as she set her backpack aside then proceeded to shove Lewis over to where Arthur was suspended. “He’s kind of up there. Is there a way to get him down without breaking his neck?”

“No problem. Lemme take care of it.” Lewis knelt on his knee and Vivi climbed onto his shoulders, balancing her shoes on the sleeves of his sweater vest. She stuck the lamp handle in her mouth and crouched down, taking Lewis hands to steady herself as he stood up. “You trust me Arty?”

“Usually.” Arthur wouldn’t admit he was nervous though. The angle of the light altered behind his back when Vivi removed it from her teeth, and he could no longer see the flash of fur or the eyes beyond the blue halo, he could only hear the delicate feet sweeping through the grass. “Did you guys get any other exploration done?” he asked. Vivi snagged his bundled wrists for balance, and he felt the lamp jab him in the small of his back as she held on to him and the light with one hand. The steady grind of the knife on the rope began, but it for some reason made him more anxious.

“Mystery and I climbed through some vents in the west dorms,” Vivi said. “There are some hidden rooms inaccessible from the regular corridors, but I believe they’re only safe rooms or something. How you doing?”

“A little light headed. You should hurry.” Arthur shut his eyes when spots and stars dazzled through the light. “Wait… are you cutting my legs free? Vi—”

Vivi’s voice crashed through, dangerously loud. “You’re doing this Lew?”

“Just say when.” Lewis stumbled back when Vivi sprang off his shoulders. He hadn’t expected it so soon, and a ghastly screech descended and hit him in the chest. “Whoa! It worked! Just like cheerleading.” Lewis grinned when Vivi swung the light to him and Arthur.

“You had doubts?” Arthur hissed, aware their voices were too loud. He regretted letting himself get worked up in his state, a heavy wave of dizziness swung through his shoulders and brain, his consciousness began to crawl. The light lunged into his eyes and he felt himself falling again.

“Hang in there,” Lewis hummed. “Keep it together for a few more seconds, then you’ll feel yourself swing back.” He set Arthur on the grass and held him elevated slightly from the cold ground. Vivi set the light aside as she stooped beside Arthur, she pressed her palms over his cheeks and rubbed at his face. “He just needs a second.”

“We’re looking good. They should be in curfew around now,” Vivi assured. Just in case, she raised her head back and gave the distance around them a short scan before returning her attention to Arthur. “Don’t move. Can you hear me?”

“Like a bell,” Arthur said. He held leans forward when Vivi moves behind him to begin cutting the rope, some sort of scratchy thing, away. “They took my supplies, my shoes… and my shirt. I have no idea where any of that—” When his hands were free, he barely raised his head back when Lewis pulled away. Arthur struggled as Vivi shoved her sweater down over his head and forced his shoulders up into the sleeves. “Thanks.” Lewis pulled him up to stand once he got his arms through the sleeves. The air was cool, but Vivi would get along well in just her blue T-shirt.

“Mystery,” Vivi hissed. She snatched up the camp light and went back to reclaim her backpack, then moved by Lewis and Arthur. She fiddled with the lamp, adjusting the light intensity until it was dimmed perilously low. “Where are you?”

The white face emerged from the dark, red eyes blazing behind the spectacles as the dog addressed his companion, and bobbed his snout off in a direction. It’s clear for the most part. Mystery turned tail and padded on ahead. 

Vivi followed. “Curfew should have been in effect a few minutes ago,” she rationalized, following the white fur as it sank among the shadows. There was no moon tonight, but the night sky was filled with shimmering jewels across its depths. Even the residents didn’t have lights to identify the various buildings built throughout the meadow, one either didn’t go out or the individual used a personal lamp, but it was forbidden to go out past curfew. “Can you guys see enough?”

“Just enough,” Lewis answered. “I found one of the guardian shrines in the north dorms. You know, where the disciples have their apartments. There’s something there I didn’t get a chance to check out.” He didn’t mention it was when they lost contact with Arthur.

The only ones exempt from curfew were the missionaries. They lurked in the dorms and around the village, each guided by a kerosene lamp with a metal shield fixed to the back. When the Mystery Skulls returned to the works and shops of the inner village, Mystery moved closer to his group and kept them alert when he detected one of the nocturnal guards. A fraction of the time missionaries were hidden when the light was cast away, but the shield on the lamps back intensified the soft glow of their bulb in any direction they spun the lamp in. Mystery pressed his side into Vivi’s knees when she was about to turn the corner of a long house, she nearly missed the glint of the shield as the missionary whirled in their direction.

“Close one,” Vivi murmured. She draped her arm around the lamp and glanced back as Lewis and Arthur caught up. She shrugged her shoulders and made a vague gesture, in Arthur’s direction.

Lewis helped Arthur lean against the wood slated wall as they waited. In response to Vivi, Arthur made a yacking sign with one hand and motioned his palms around his head. Not for the first time, Lewis wondered if they just did this to be funny or if there was an actual dialogue passed between the two.

The missionary wandered off to some distant shadow and Mystery was certain he caught the clamor of a door being wedged or swung, but the dog waited. He crouched low in the grass with his head between his paws, the only movement came from Mystery’s ears as they spun and swung to the various sounds that braved onto the open air. No crickets, no birds, no rustling of nocturnal creatures. Unnatural. A small shudder rose in Mystery as he pushed himself to his feet. One rear leg kicked back, tapping Vivi on the shin before he trotted off. Take it slow, keep close to the wall.

“Are we clear?” Vivi whispers. She huddled beside the wall with Lewis and Arthur, while Mystery padded out away from the looming mound of the buildings dark mass. She lost track of Mystery’s outline as he left the range of the lamp, but she waited.

Mystery announced himself with a low gurgle, and resumed his calm stride as the others followed. He paused to wait as they crossed the lawn, and let Vivi bring the lamp closer to his position.

“The north dorms are this way,” Lewis said, as he gestured with one hand. Mystery began into the dark with his group following.

The village was in part rural, with only a few technological areas for modern commodity. A few of the buildings housed the soft purr of generators that powered engines in other lodges for some of the machines.

“Up there,” Lewis uttered. He guides Vivi’s lamp arm, and she adjusts the lights intensity as Lewis directs to one of the overhead lines nearly invisible above in the bleak sky. “The disciples have electricity in their dorms.”

“How predictable,” Arthur muttered. He had recovered enough to follow on his own and kept pace with his friends as they weaved between the buildings through the village. “Does it seem really quiet around here?” They pause to listen, and Mystery gave a confirming bark somewhere in the dark ahead of them. “I was expecting crickets.” He paused, someone shifted uncomfortably and Vivi lowered the light. Despite himself Arthur cringed in the dark. “Now that I think on it, that’s really creepy.”

“There’s nothing that can hurt us,” Vivi assured. She moved to Arthur and pat the hand clenched beside his hip. “Not out here.”

“Yeah,” Arthur breathed. “But we’re about to go indoors, right?”

“No one’s gonna see us,” Lewis further encouraged. “We go in, get out. Nothing between – Er… well, you get the picture.” He followed Vivi when she renewed the pace, Mystery ahead always kept in the edge of the soft light.

The disciples apartments had one of the thick cables connecting to a sharp outcropping of the roof, somewhere behind the lodge. Vivi brought the light down as they entered the small cubby that led into the backdoor. The group huddled with the light as Lewis went through his pockets, until he found an unremarkable silver key.

“Where’d you get that?” inquired Arthur, as Lewis shouldered the door open gently. Vivi raised the light through the doorframe as Lewis stepped through, arm held out in caution.

“Found it in one of the meeting rooms,” Vivi spoke. When Lewis gave no indication of concern, she edged forward and joined him in the open corridor. The floor creaked under Lewis’ weight, and the group paused at the sound. “Easy.” She felt Mystery brush by her legs, his claws ticked on the hard wood floor as he moved up to join Lewis. Arthur eased the door behind him shut, and set his hand on the wall as he followed the hall.

“Everyone should be asleep,” Lewis whispered. The hall was spacious, he could put his arms out and not touch the sides. A large doorway opened to the right and he inched forward to look inside. The lack of light should mean no one was within the room, but the shadows were thick. He crept by and Vivi followed, the lamp illuminated a portion of the room beyond the archway. Mystery made soft sounds as he sniffed over the walls and floor, the dog kept his pace even when Lewis had paused. 

“There are strange runes on the doorways,” Lewis mentioned, as they turned the corner at the halls end. “On the floors in the doorways, into most of the rooms. I think these are the separate wings of the bedrooms.” He pointed one of the dark painted marks on the floor, beneath the edge of a door. No light was visible through the crack. Vivi lowered her lamp and examined what was visible. She touched the edge of the mark and shuddered. “You cold?”

She shook her head and stood up. “No. I think… it looks like a protective barrier,” Vivi deduced. “Where was this place you found?” She turns and hands Arthur the light. “Will this help?”

Arthur nods as he takes the lamp. He raised the light to check the end of the corridor they had come from and saw no movement, only wavering shadows. “They said they were going to make an example of me,” he murmurs. Vivi waits for him to catch up, not for the light but she waited for him to go on. “I’m not sure how.”

“Don’t think too much about it,” Lewis replies. He paused at each door checking the symbol as Arthur brought the light, and listened for sounds within the chamber. “We got you back.”

“What sort of… thing do they worship?” Arthur hushed as Lewis set a finger to his own lips and crouched down beside the corner of a wall. Lewis never answered, he went around the corner and only motioned for the others to follow. “Viv?”

“It’s a little vague,” Vivi answered. They followed Lewis into a large room, Arthur felt the air thin as the walls opened up and the ceiling overhead raised in its architectural design. He waited to raise the intensity of the lamp and find where Lewis was exactly, see where they were, but he knew better. “Some sort of guardian, or low level devil. I’ve seen no sort of artwork to signify what, but the runes….” She trailed off when they reached Lewis and Mystery, stepping down a set of stairs that descended beside the wall. Vivi moved around the rail and followed.

At the small cement flat at the bottom of the steps, Lewis fumbled with a door handle and cursed. “Do ou still have your tools?” Lewis twisted the locked knob in his fist.

“They took all my tools,” Arthur shook his head. Vivi swung her backpack off and began going through its inner pockets.

“Will these work?” Vivi handed over a sharp needle and a paperclip. “Our only other option would be to leave and come back later, but the risks involved.” She traded Arthur for the lamp, and he took the tools to the door.

The lock was simple but difficult, its archaic design was what threw Arthur off but he managed to unhinge the mechanism. Lewis commended his skill as he pushed the door open and scoped out the interior. There was nothing but steps descending into dark cement walls, no lights and no visible switch. They crept into the long tunnel down and down, the soft steps cracking against the walls and snapping at their ears drums like the soft crackle of wood on a fire. The small blaze of light that engulfed the group swelled within the tight confines of the wall. Arthur made certain to shut the door before he followed, his bare soles slipping over the cold rock as he hurried after his friends.

“Don’t fall,” Lewis cautioned. “It doesn’t look that far.” True to word, the tight steps led to another door which was not locked. He pressed it open and indicated the runes on the floor as Vivi entered behind him. She handed the light back to Arthur and dug into her backpack for a notebook, and knelt down for a few seconds to sketch.

Mystery gave the symbol a wide distance as he moved out around the room, examining what walls were visible in the dark. As Lewis moved across the room, Mystery snapped his attention to his steps and followed the path of the tall figure.

Lewis found the switch on the wall and flipped it, a large steel lamp above in the ceiling flashed on and a dull hum of outdated electrical current buzzed in the air. The room was spacious with a low wooden ceiling, a series of small pews lined the furthest side of the room, set to face an altar and a large picture behind a wood carved statue of a tall man, inhumanely tall. At the base of the statue was a podium, and a large outdated freezer set into the stands base.

“Groovy,” Lewis said. He pointed to a series of tall drapes hung at the corners of the room which seemed wholly decorative, but Lewis explained, “There’s some kind of drainage chute I crawled through.” Vivi stood up from her sketching and followed Lewis across the room, toward the musty olive green curtains. “I couldn’t see what they were doing, but I could hear them. Some sort of ritual, or some initiation. They did a lot of chanting, but that was about it.”

As Lewis went on about his experience, Arthur walked off to explore on his own. He moved to the back of the room and examined the tall wood carved statue of the man. The statue was ancient, horribly distorted through the years of advanced age; its wood stained and darkened, cracked in many areas and expelled a strong scent of ash. He looked to the podium before the figure and noted a large book set on the stand, the cover gray and leather bound with pale cords of what appeared to be sinew holding the spine of the book together. He reached over to the book—

“¡No lo toques!” Lewis snatched Arthur’s wrist in a painful grip and jerked his fingers away from the book. There was fear in his eyes, and Arthur inwardly cringed. “Lo siento, me… I couldn’t,” Lewis stuttered and took a breath. “You have to be careful.”

“What is it?” Vivi all but demanded as she raced over. She looked at the book and her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. Marks were carved into the solid wood of the podium, words she began to mouth to herself silently. “It’s… some kind of language. I don’t understand the grammatical breaks in it.”

“It creeped me out when I got into this chamber?” Lewis apologized again to Arthur and released his arm. Arthur took his hand back and rubbed his sore wrist through the blue sweater sleeve, as he watched Lewis. At the front of the podium, where the outdated freezer sat, was Mystery, examining the white metal carefully. Lewis moved around to join the dog. “Something about ‘The Warden of Names.’” Over the two front doors of the freezer hung separated segments of chain. Mystery shuffled close to Lewis, as he leaned down to inspect the chains. “Do you have a protective dispel for this?”

Vivi rounded the podium and crouched before the freezer with Lewis, and rapped her knuckles on the thick metal door. The paint was chipped along its smooth edges and the whole container seemed fitted into the podium, but why? She pulled off her backpack and went through it, pulling out bundles of sage, a container of salt, all useless. The investigator gave a small noise of glee when she brought out a ring, the same used for keychains. “Can I see your knife?” She held out her hand for Lewis, and took the knife and unfolded it. With the knife she cut nicks into the outer side of the silver metal, carefully directing the blade to cut along the rim and cross over the miniscule symbols. “Mystery. Your paw.”

Mystery sat down and held out his paw. Vivi nicked him on the back of his hand and the crimson fluid slipped through the dark fur of his toes. Vivi rubbed the ring into the red, then pulled his paw up and kissed it.

“Thank you for your blessing,” she said. Vivi blew carefully on the ring until the blood had dried, then approached the two chains that hung beside the doors.

Arthur watched over the podiums top, while Vivi fumbled to connect the two chains with the ring. Lewis pulled Mystery over and had a roll of gauze out to utilize on the cut dripping on the dogs paw. “So, what’s that supposed to do?” he asked.

“The book you’re looking at,” Vivi began, and Arthur glanced down on the stained and worn top of the desk, “basically curses whoever touches the book.” Arthur took a wide step back. “You might want to consider reading more of the lore stuff.”

Arthur put his hands in his empty pockets. “I’ll maybe rely on you for a counter curse,” he muttered. “Is it really that dangerous?”

“Dunno,” Lewis admits. He rubbed Mystery’s bandaged paw, and said, “We’ll put some aloe on it later.” He raises his voice to Arthur. “But I don’t dabble with beliefs, ‘specially ones this strong.”

“Done,” Vivi announced, and stood. “You can take the book now, Artie.” Arthur looked at her and laughed dryly; he took another wide step back. Before Vivi could argue with him, Lewis strolled up to the podium and snatched the book off. Lewis winced and shut his eyes, he held the book in front of his face as if expecting some kind of typhoon of a blow.

That never came.

Lewis cracked one eye and stared at the dark spot on the wood that outlined the space where the tome had rested for years, another rune marked into the polished timber. The faint scent of smoke and ash rose. “I expected worse,” he murmurs, and backed away. “We should probably go?”

“Let me look at that book, first.” Vivi gestured for Lewis to hand her the tome, and she dropped to her knees on the cold cement. Mystery padded over and curled up close to her, the basement was drafty and small trembles began to work up in her bare shoulders where her T-shirt didn’t cover. “’Ward of Names,’” she repeated. Lewis handed her the book, and Vivi set it down. “Bag.” Lewis leaned away and snagged her backpack by one strap. “Thank you.”

The lights, did they flicker? Arthur glanced up as he moved away from the stand to join his friends. He glanced up, unsure if his eyes were reliable after he had been woozy from hanging upside down, but decided he couldn’t tell. Just his imagination, he was unsettled by the scenery, by the atmosphere of the room. He watched Vivi drag her laptop from the backpack and set it down, screen open and her fingers already snapping across the keypad. She kept repeating Ward of Names with each page she flipped, the yellowed sheets crinkled and the texture gave the notion that any moment the parchment would rip into shreds. Arthur coughed at the foul smell of the book.

“Some of these go back to the mid Eighteen hundreds,” Vivi spoke. “The handwriting is nearly impossible to read, and the style keeps changing.” She bit her lip, her eyes move to the computer and back to the book. “It goes on and on.”

“Yes, it goes on and on my friends,” Lewis hummed, grinning. “Some people started singing it not knowing what it was.”

“And they'll continue singing it forever just because . . .” Arthur began, and Lewis chimed in with him:

“This is the song that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friends! Some people started singing it not knowing what it was. And they'll continue singing it forever just because.…”

“You’re both grounded,” Vivi snapped. The duo gave disappointed moans, exaggerated but still disappointed. “Both of you, to your corners.” Vivi looked back to the book, and stiffened. “Here’s one. Late 1990s.” She turned back to the laptop and flipped through a database of names, dates, all compiled. Addresses were not given, but dates were prolific through the tome, among various names. “I think I understand what we found.”

“The universes perfect brownie recipe,” Arthur quipped. Mystery reached out and slapped his foot. “Lighten up,” he said to the dog, and returned his gaze to Vivi. “Does it look like most our people are in that book?”

“Exactly,” Vivi answered. “Maybe more, its hard to sift through. I think this’ll be all we need for now.” She shut the tome and turned to the computer, checking the time before closing out of the programs. “Just some quick pictures, and we can call it a night.”

“Yes,” Arthur praised, arms going up. The sleeves of Vivi’s sweater were shortened on him, but that wasn’t as bad as wandering around on the frigid cement barefoot. He’d be glad to get back to the van, but… “Are we going to have to come back?”

“We might.” Vivi pulled the camera from her bag and turned it on. She scanned the room over with her eyes before she raised the camera and began snapping off flashes, first the podium and the ancient carved statue, then the pews and surrounding walls. After every few snaps she’d take the camera and scan through the still images, the scroll screen buzzing as she cycled through the shots.

Arthur moved out of the way, going over to where Lewis stood as the taller figure gestured him over. Without comment Lewis took Arthur’s arm and pulled back the puffy sleeve and examined his wrists. “That doesn’t hurt?” Lewis pondered, aloud.

“Naw.” Arthur didn’t bother to pull his other wrist back when Lewis caught it, and checked the soft blue and yellow shades on his skin. “I didn’t even notice until you mentioned it.” Lewis scowled, contemplative and irritated, and Arthur reflected how glad he was not to be the source of his agitation. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

Lewis eyes snapped to him, but resumed scrutinizing the dark shades on his pale wrists. “Vivi has some aspirin, but you need some water too,” he deemed, and released Arthur’s hands as he stepped away. “And no coffee.”

“Lew,” Arthur groaned. “You’re such a mom. Has anyone told you that?”

“I will hear none of it from you, young man,” Lewis jabbed back. He knelt near the computer to power the machine down and slipped it into Vivi’s bag, he collected the sack and the tome before turning back to Arthur. “Besides, your hands are important. You need to take care of them."

“Hands? What?” Vivi concluded her photography and returned to Lewis, holding the bag with the book jammed inside. “How bad?” She looked to Arthur, though Lewis answered.

“Bad bruising. A few days of fluid and not getting tied up will help. Ready?” They turned to Mystery already padding to the entrance of the room, he had plucked up the lamp abandoned by the rune and was making his way to the threshold of the door, when a noise jarred him. The fur between Mystery’s shoulders stood on end and he looked back, beyond the Mystery Skulls group as they caught up. Lewis caught on and was turning back, when the first thud clattered in the room. Arthur sprang into him and grabbed his elbow, and another hollow crack reverberated off the harsh walls as each in turn looked back to the freezer door. “What—?”

Vivi’s teeth chattered as she watched the doors, the only security over them a shimmering ancient chain connected by a keyring. “I think the script meant ‘Warden’ of Names,’” she said. Within the freezer came a rasping wail, grinding through the cold air. “Now is the time to move. Move!” She shoved Lewis and Arthur through the doorway. Mystery barks as he followed the three up the stairs and into the dim tunnel.

“I thought you made a protective barrier!” Arthur growled. He was right behind Lewis trying to match his speed.

“I don’t know how strong it is, I don’t know what’s in there!” Vivi cried. “It’ll hold, or it would’ve had us by now.” She ran into both Arthur and Lewis when they stopped on the steps, and Mystery yelped when he collided with the back of her thighs, the harsh clatter of the lamp came when the handle was jarred from Mystery’s teeth and dropped it onto the steps. “Ow.”

“Shh,” Lewis hissed, he pushed his arms back easing the others down the steps. The soft tap of claws meandered around as Mystery collected himself and moved uneasily under the shadows. “Back. We have to go back.”

Arthur was about to protest, when he heard it too. Voice, and feet scuffling in the dark above. There was a light above, but in the narrow space of the stairs it was only a matter of time. “What’s the worst they can do to us?” he murmured.

“Not kill us,” Vivi reasoned. She tugged Arthur by the shoulders and got him to turn around and follow. She couldn’t see well where her feet were falling in the dull warped shades under her. She could only catch the rapid paw slaps on the cement as Mystery charged onward. The bright cutout of light in the doorframe blazed below. “The drain?”

“Behind the drapes,” Lewis answered. “But that—” A voice from the tunnel, closer than it could’ve been, harped after them. 

“You! Who are you?!” The voice was light, but unfriendly. “You’re not in trouble, just stop where you are.”

“Run,” Lewis hissed. He charged after the others as they crashed back into the light, the hostile scraping sounds of the freezer became wild. He glanced at the doors as the chain jerked taunt across the marred white metal, with the force it should have snapped long ago. He prayed the ward held. “They’ll follow us. Unless they try to set that thing free.”

“They won’t risk it.” Vivi raced across the room to the far wall and ran by the pews, toward the drapes Lewis had shown her minutes before. Lewis followed and Arthur hurried to keep up, beside Arthur’s blurred legs was Mystery. Vivi saw Mystery, panting and worry written in his eyes. “You lost the lamp?”

Mystery snapped his teeth. It was an accident, he panicked!

Lewis took the dusty green curtain and swung it back. He exchanged hand holds on the curtains, as he reached to the back of his belt, before Arthur and Vivi managed to catch up. “Here.” He held out the penlight. Vivi snatched the small flashlight and turned to the grate, it was large for a seepage drain for a basement, but looked almost too small for Lewis to have entered through; however, he often surprised her in odd circumstances. 

The first through was Arthur, slipping through one space in the bars where one of the steel beams had been bent in the crumbling cement floor. Right on After’s heels was Mystery, and behind them Vivi shoved the backpack through. Arthur caught the bag and slung the straps over his shoulders, he took Vivi by the hand when she was through and heaved her upright beside him. 

As the door at the front of the chamber smashed into the wall, Lewis let the drape fall across the grate and shoved his chest through the gap in the bars. The traitorous bar cracked in its loose fitting within the cement floor but remained wedged tight, Lewis coughed as he slid down and hit the cobblestone. His hands claw out for a handhold, though the stone was sleek and polished. The sounds of the intruders, the cultist, whoever, were now in the room.

“The Scripture is gone!”

Vivi grabbed Lewis’ wrist, Arthur took Lewis’ other arm and together they pulled. “Not helping,” Lewis wheezed.

“You gotta exhale,” Arthur grunts, as he digs his bare heels into the cold cement. “Now Lew. Now!”

The voice cried out, “The drapes! There!”

Something in Lewis back ripped as he skid forward onto his face. Mystery yelped with persistent urgency as Lewis lay there, winded and stunned. “Am I bleeding?” He tries to turn over and reach for his back where a cold draft gnawed at his spine. When he looked back, his eyes met those of a pale man on the other side of the bars.

“You!” The man said, eyes narrowing. “How dare you, I’ll— Wait! I’m not finished!”

The tunnel was narrow, forcing the quadrat to race in single file. Vivi led the way with the small penlight directed on their path, and Lewis followed here. “How did you get in here?” she rasped, as they jogged.

“Well,” Lewis began, trying to recall if he actually found his way in or if he fell. He had a habit of stumbling into weird hidden areas, like this drainage cellar. He had to keep his head low or risk scraping his scalp. “I think I climbed down?” He felt at his back and thumbed at the tear in his good sweater vest, but at least he wasn’t cut. Still, it was disappointing ruining another shirt.

“Did you fall?” Arthur asked.

“I’m pretty sure I climbed down,” Lewis said. “Down. From a ladder.” He put his arms out and managed to keep his balance, it was disorientating with Vivi running ahead in the tight tunnel and their only source of light bobbing. He just needed to keep track of the glittering stone that managed to hold the light where his steps fell. A brief speck of alarm hit him when he thought that Mystery wasn’t with them, but as Lewis focused he could pick up on the rhythmic patter of the dogs light feet echoing not far behind them.

“What kind of ladder?” Arthur took a few breaths and smoothed out his rapid breath. “Did you fall from it?”

“Damnit Arthur! I didn’t fall!” Lewis’ shout thundered in the tight curvature of the tunnel, and the group fell into near silence. Their shoe soles and bare feet, slapped onto the polished cobblestone, Mystery claws pattered in their usual rhythm, but slowed at the back of the group somewhat. “I’m sorry,” Lewis muttered. He slowed his strides, forcing Arthur behind him to drag out of his jog as Lewis did. Vivi kept going a ways as she lost momentum under her own pace. “Think they might try and head us off?” The light from the penlight glistened over them as Vivi flashed it around. Lewis held out his hand and Arthur slung off the backpack.

“It’ll take them a bit to get organized. And get to wherever this chute lets out,” Vivi estimated. She trailed a hand along the ceiling curve, and tapped her fingers as she silently counted to herself in silent calculation. “Be careful with the laptop.”

“Yes, my dear.” Lewis stuck the straps over one arm and resumed walking. “I did apologize, didn’t I Artie?”

Arthur shrugged somewhere in the dark. “You didn’t need to.” He moved aside to let Mystery by, and the dog brushed by Lewis to reach Vivi and the light. “I shouldn’t have been an ass. Don’t let me be an ass, especially around Viv-vi.” He glanced behind him into the swell of black they left in their wake, the soft comfort of the pitiful penlight retreats with each step. “Besides, I kind of don’t think they’ll head us off.”

The tunnel was saturated with the stale residue of earth and water, though it was parched of all moisture. It was a drainage chute for the old cellar, built into the home in response to the heavy rainfall that was common throughout the region. In some sections of the wall scraggly bursts of roots twisted through the cobblestone, catching at hair and faces if the group wasn’t careful. 

In the midst of Vivi and Lewis discussion of evidence, Mystery stopped mid step and looked back. “What is it?” Vivi asked. Arthur stepped aside and turns to look, as Vivi directed the light on the path they had come from. At their distance the thin light was worthless, and the thick layers of dirt surrounding them were daunting in its immovable way. Thunderous. There existed a faint resonance, a delicate _clicking_. As they waited, the low twitter weakened. “We should keep moving.” Mystery took off first, and Vivi hastened to catch up.

“The opening shouldn’t be much further,” Lewis pants. If they were still alone, they wouldn’t be for long. Lewis could pick out Arthur stumbling at his back, it was probable Arthur was trying to glimpse into their wake where the sounds originated, or Arthur was fighting to stay in pace despite holding up the rear and receiving the least amount of light at his feet. A minor detail Lewis had overlooked was that Arthur remained barefoot, but that alone wouldn’t deter Arthur if he suspected genuine danger.

The combined clatter of their rapid footfalls either drowned out the timid tremors, or they left the chatter behind entirely; whatever the case it was progress. “Wait-wait!” Lewis caught Vivi by her T-shirts back and looked up, where the tunnels ceiling had a circular opening. “This is it.”

Arthur moved close beside the others and examined the crude ladder in the wall, its surface thick with calcite and rust. “Where does this come down from?”

“The shower rooms from the east dorms,” Lewis answered. He reached out and tugged on one of the rungs. “In a closet of all places.”

“This tunnel might’ve served as an escape route,” Vivi added. She angled the frail light into the space of the tunnel not yet ventured in their path. “Did you get the chance to check down that way?” A distant rustle or grating clattered over the cold stone walls, the acoustics of the tunnel made it impossible to discern where the sound originated from – it seemed to come from both ends around them. The Mystery Skulls stood in absolute silence, the atmosphere was completely devoid of natural reverberation. Vivi felt her heart pumping in her chest. It was following them. “We all… heard that?”

“We shouldn’t be here,” Arthur stutters. He goes quiet as he stares into the tunnel they had ventured from, into the shriveled boundary of light that followed them. “Move. We gotta move.”

“Calm down,” Lewis hissed. “We’re getting out of here.”

Vivi stuck the penlight between her teeth and leaned down, allowing Mystery to climb onto her back. She gave the dog a garbled caution around the lights handle in her teeth, before she took the ladders steps and hurried her climb. The light faded in her ascent and Arthur became edgy in the deepening darkness.

“You next.” Lewis pushed Arthur to the glittering contours of the choppy metal. “Don’t look back, just climb.” Lewis did look back, he didn’t want to but he had to. “Steady Art, don’t fall.”

“You’re telling me to not look back!” The sharp tinge of iron burned Arthur’s nose, and the rough texture of the ladder wore on his sore tender foot pads. “Don’t tell me to slow down.”

“I’m telling you to climb and be careful,” Lewis retorts, still staring into the absolute wall growing thicker and closer in his eyes. It is there – whatever it is – barely visible but it is there and it creeps towards him. The passive nattering tumbles over the walls but he can’t discern if they’re getting louder, if it is getting closer. It weaves along the floor and sweeps up hovering beneath where the ceiling must be, but he knows it is only hunched low beneath the ceiling. “I don’t want you to fall.” Lewis begins up the ladder crusted steps, his eyes kept constant vigil of the pale wispy thing as it slopes down to the floor and hastens its progress. “Please don’t fall Artie.”

“You okay, Lew?” That was Vivi. Arthur was unnerved by the quiver in Lewis’ voice, but Vivi managed to ask first. This inquiry was a cousin to another question, but she refused to ask it and Lewis didn’t know if he could manage the lie.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lewis said, assuring with a gentle undertone. Keep calm, stay cool. They were getting out of the tunnels, it wouldn’t follow. He didn’t want them out of the loop. “Just keep going.”

The passage echoed with Mystery’s barks, the dog voice was strained, alarmed. Vivi’s voice came under his sharp cry, but Lewis didn’t catch what she said.

“I’m climbing as fast as I can,” Arthur snapped. “I got dog butt in my face!” The tunnel vibrates with Mystery’s incredulous yaps.

The scratching was below, at the base of the ladder but that was impossible to gauge. He didn’t want to know but it was getting louder, he couldn’t deny that.

“Can we save the arguing for topside?” Lewis groaned. Two more rungs of the ladder, and the scratching was right beneath his feet. “Y’know, for no particular reason.”

“Give me your hand.” Vivi’s scream was muffled, and the glow of the penlight danced around as she bounced along the horizon of the curved edge. Arthur’s silhouette swung out of view, over the semicircle side of the open drain. It was clear, he just needed to climb. Fast. “Lewis!”

Hands snatch at his ankles. Gnarled, icy, clammy hands. “Get out of the way! Get back!” Lewis howled. He dragged his sneakers out of the jagged clutches and vaulted up the last few bars of the ladder, the cold stone walls battered his shoulders as he scrambled up over the curved edge. “It’s coming! It’s coming! Move!” The drain was in the floor of the closest, its tight space surrounded by low shelves fitted at the walls, each shelf was stacked with clean linen, towels. Lewis ducked out from under a low shelf and grabbed in the direction of the light, Vivi squawked when Lewis caught her shoulder and he continued to shove her backwards out through the doorway. As Vivi went stumbling into a room, Lewis slung the backpack off his shoulder and pushed the bag into her arms. The fevered barks alerted Lewis before he was aware, that Arthur wasn’t among them. “Art!”

The insignificant gleam of the penlight caught the whites of Arthur’s eyes, a strangled choke echoed when the scrawny figure dove forward and out of the lights range. Lewis lashed out catching the soft fabric of the sweater, Lewis thought the strained fabric would rip as he hauled them backwards. “The door Vi!” Lewis launched away from the closets interior, he felt the wool rip in his fingers but Arthur collapsed with him. The door cracked in the frame, and the wild movements of the small light dart around the base of the carved wood panel.

There was a pause, Lewis and Arthur groan where they lay. Then came the knocking.

“Shh,” Vivi hushed. She pressed one hand into the door as the slow knocks came through, a pause between each. She counted them – five, six…. “I don’t think it can enter until it knocks… a certain number of times.” The backpack had been ‘set’ on the floor beside the door, and now she tore through it seeking out one notebook and a piece of graphite. 

“How long do we have?” Arthur burbled, leaning up and wincing to a pain in his side. “Vi. We should get out of here.”

“Give me a sec,” Vivi says, distracted. She flips through the notebook, snapping the pages aside and reading over the jumble of notes overwritten atop early notes. She kneels against the door with the notebook on her skirted knees, penlight in one hand and the graphite in the other. “A lil patience will take care of you.” She mumbled something under her breath and began scrawling the black marks onto the bare space of wood floor before the door.

“That thing didn’t grab you,” Arthur spat.

It wasn’t long before the knocks ceased, the space behind the door projected emptiness, but Vivi finished the rune anyway. It paid to be thorough. “Did you get a good look at it?” she asked.

Arthur chuckled nastily as he rose up onto his feet. “What do you think?” He jumped when Mystery brushed into his legs, and crushed at his own jumpiness. “It was dark.”

“What were you trying to do, anyway?” Lewis tried not to chuckle, he tried. He pushed himself to his feet and gave the room they had tumbled into another look over, verifying there was no missed company or ‘presence’ lingering in the further edges beyond the dull brush of the light. It was just the room, void of identity aside from the mounds of dark piles – nondescript furniture. Arthur wobbled further from the door, into the dark pool of shadows beyond the glows range.

“I was trying to cover the grate,” Arthur replied. It was too dark to judge where the sofa was exactly, but the side was stuffed cotton that absorbed the blow of his toes. “It… didn’t look that heavy.” He cast edgy glances to Vivi as she worked at the floor, the absence of the knocking was disconcerting now.

“It was dark,” Lewis added. “Is that the same mark from the floors?”

An affirming sound hummed from Vivi. “Don’t worry,” she went on, “if it didn’t work, then I would have just salted the door. I might do that anyway.” She finished the mark, and lay salt along the doors edge for good measure. “We’re still in danger.”

“Still?” Arthur blurted. “How do you know that rune will work? Locking those door didn’t work.” He threw his arms up and walked around the room, stumbling into another chair. “Damnit.”

“That doesn’t count.” Vivi shines the light across the room, to Lewis’ shape beside a door across from she and Arthur. “They must’ve let it out, or they set it on us.” Mystery joined her as she crossed the room. “I can dispel this when we reach the van. We’ll be safe then.”

“You sure?” Arthur urged. He was still looking at the silent door, probably estimating the length of the unexplored tunnel below.

“Confidence,” Vivi said. “We know where we are, and where we’re going.” She was about to say more when the door beside Lewis smashed open, the group collectively winced at the sound and the sudden light that engulfed the room.

“All of you!” the voice at the door bellowed. The sudden light was blinding, Lewis stumbled back from the intrusion of sound and possible danger. “Come with us! Don’t resist.” A hand snared Lewis by the arm, and he struck out with a right hook. Lewis didn’t hit a face, but the blow did knock someone down and they crashed onto the floor.

Mystery yapped and hopped onto the sofa in the middle of the room. Vivi blinked the shimmer of white in her eyes away and looked to the dog as he barked and pawed at the cushions. “Lew! Catch!” Vivi slung her backpack onto her shoulders, and took up one of the dull olive green cushions. She tossed it in Lewis’ direction when he backed away from the three tall figures now advancing through their only exit.

The sizable chair cushion was snared between Lewis’ fists, and he swung it out as he pivoted and smashed it across the two nearest men before they had a chance to realize what he was doing with a couch cushion. “Guys! Run!” Lewis hooted, as he barreled into the group poised in the doorway. Lewis stumbled over the fallen, groaning bodies on the floor and plowed into the next set of people that had stood over them. The entire hall shook with the force of Lewis colliding a pillow into people and a wall.

“You’ll return the Scripture!” One of the men, dressed in a sweatshirt and khakis, shoved himself up from the floor and caught up to Lewis as Lewis spun to him. The figure snagged Lewis’ ascot in his fist and yanked. “You’ll do as I say, or suffer—” His preaching tapered off into a winded gruff when a battle cry from Vivi collided with his lower back, along with her shoulder. Lewis stumbled sideways, but Vivi caught him by the arm and dragged him into the lit hall after Arthur and Mystery.

“Are we going the right way?” Vivi asked, as they cut around the next corner. Arthur didn’t slow, but he did pick up the pace. The doors of the numerous rooms that they whizzed by cackled with voices jabbering on top of each other, groups of missionaries struggling to coordinate and corner the intruders. Bellowing shouts echoed out, calling across the dorm in a foreign tongue Vivi didn’t recognize. This was dangerous, she couldn’t discern who was where or what they knew.

“This will lead out,” Lewis answered. It wasn’t a wrong way, but it was the longer way. That could work, but it would be tricky. “But don’t stop! Whatever happens.” He used the hand Vivi wasn’t dragging to loosen his ascot from being pulled tight. “That door, the one you just passed!”

Arthur skid on his heels and back peddled to a door, no different from any other, in the hall. “Huh?” He didn’t bother to wait for Lewis or Vivi, he snapped the polished wood panel back and stared onto the gloomy steps that ascended into the musty atmosphere. “Where does this go?”

“Upstairs,” Lewis said. He let Vivi go first with Mystery, the sharp glimmer of their light slithered across the ascending steps. Lewis followed the two, he stepped gently onto the steps as the wood grunted under his weight. Arthur eased the door shut at his back and followed the dull blaze of the penlight climbing into the thick air about them. “Take the right, count five doors, one of them is unlocked.”

“And where does that lead us?” Arthur asked. He hastened up the steps and nearly ran into Lewis, which caused Arthur to throw his arms out and brace himself between the walls or risk toppling backwards. “Sorry.”

“Better than falling,” Lewis admits. He pulls Arthur back onto his feet and they continue following Vivi in silence.

The door at the steps top was stiff but made no sound as Vivi pressed it open, she edged the light in the space and Mystery at her shins poked his face out and glanced around. “The lights are off,” Vivi announced, as she entered into the corridor. She shined her light among the walls and doors as they began to the right, Mystery’s coat flashed under the beam as he sniffed along. She counted five unremarkable doors along the tacky wall paper and thick wood panels. “They still think we’re downstairs.” Mystery poked his nose at a fallen desk but kept moving.

“There will probably be missionaries outside patrolling,” Lewis spoke. He caught up to Mystery and tries a few doors, but most were locked or jammed in their frames. “It was the left or the right. I might’ve gotten turned around.”

A door snapped inward at Vivi’s grip, and she stumbled into the room not anticipating the lack of leverage. “Here’s one.” She coughed at the dusty air, her feet slipped over the grungy carpet as she entered into the open space. Her light revealed little, but some furniture, a bed, and a distinct lack of being lived in. 

“Old unused room,” Arthur observed, behind her.

Vivi angled her light to the ceiling, then the walls. Everything had a vague sense of age. “Old forgotten rooms,” she intoned. Clothing and an open suitcase still sat on the vanity, beside one wall of the room. As she turned the penlight, she caught the glinting frame of a window buried under a film of dirt.

The window was nailed shut. Lewis frowned at the sides when he attempted to pull the window up, and failed. “We’re gonna have to book it fast,” he warned. He walked around the bed in the center of the room to reach the vanity, and the chair set before it. “Everyone ready?”

Arthur sighed as Lewis braced himself beside the window. “No,” he says, “but let’s get this over with.” He winced when Lewis shoved the chair right through the brittle glass and the old rotten cross frame. A gush of cool, fresh air swelled into the ancient room disturbing layers of old dust. Arthur coughed and stuffed his face into the sweaters top. Vivi was already climbing out.

“Careful of the glass,” Lewis cautioned. H took Mystery up and slung the dog over one shoulder, but waited at the window as Arthur tiptoed along the floor. “Vi, the light so he can see.” Most the glass was in large shards and had managed to scatter outside, down the slates of the rood. “Just yell if you fall.” Lewis held out a hand for Arthur, in case.

“Har-har,” Arthur grumbled. He gripped the frame of the window as he eased himself out, onto the wood planks of the roof. The temperature had fallen several degrees since they were inside, it didn’t help that the sweater he was wearing now had a big rip in the collar. Arthur leaned down and set his hands to the roof. “How are we getting down?”

“This way,” Lewis trailed his hand along the wall of the upper story. “You’re okay Mystery, I’ve got you.” The dog wrapped his arms around Lewis’ neck and gazed off, toward the ambiguous location of the ground beyond the roofs edge. Vivi followed effortlessly, though she managed the light and her shoes were not the best for precarious perches. The roof jutted our over a porch above the lower dorm, and the support beam of the wooden eave stood beneath the corner of the roof. Lewis and Vivi perched at the edge staring down into the dark grass. Vivi had doused the light in her hand to prevent them from being seen but it made it difficult to view what was below. The lack of activity and sounds was encouraging. “It looks clear.” Lewis swung down first, one arm clasped to the roof while the other kept Mystery secure. Arthur followed. When Lewis set Mystery down, the dog circled around the group and turned his attention off toward the dark blocks of the village dorms.

“We’re on the edge of the village?” Vivi asked. She dropped down into Lewis’ open arms, and he caught her bridal style and set her back onto her feet. Vivi kept the light dim as she stepped away from Lewis, and gave their perimeter a short examination. Through the gloom and lack of moonlight, Vivi was still able to distinguish the rows of buildings from that of the cage of the forest growing around the village. “We came in from off the side, that way.” She indicated along the outskirts of the dark buildings, aware of the haphazard commotion from within the building they had exited. “Hurry.”

The forest loomed beneath the dark sky and the collecting thick clouds obscuring what little illumination was present from the cosmos. Arthur could only follow the rustle of his friends and hope for the best. “We’re going into the woods,” he whispered. “And we don’t know if that thing is still following us!”

“Probably is,” Vivi pants. “If that thing was some sort of guardian of the village, the runes are only meant to deter it. The village as a whole may be in the same danger we are, so no one will follow us.” The light glistened over the blades of grass rushing under their path, the calls and energy of the dorm fade behind them. “We’ll be safe once we reach the van.”

The fear Arthur felt was justified, and Lewis had his doubts as well but he wouldn’t voice them. “Mystery will let us know if there’s any danger.” 

Mystery yapped. The woods were eerie this late in the evening, but it could have been his own nerves betraying his instincts.

“Don’t look back,” Lewis says. “Keep moving.” 

“I think you said something similar, not long ago,” Arthur commented. He slowed as they departed the village outskirts and moved towards the muggy breeze trailing through the deep inky woods. Leaves shiver along the grassy carpet, while above the tree branches moan as the wind jostled the rough limbs. It brought back his memories of the hanging tree, and Arthur rubbed at his sore wrists as he dithers from entering the thick cover of the trees contrasting the night sky.

Mystery halts in his tracks, prompting Vivi and Lewis to turn back. “It’ll work out,” Vivi offered. “But it’s not safe to stop for too long.” 

Lewis gestured to Arthur. “C’mon, don’t get left behind. You don’t want to get lost tonight.”

Mystery pivots and barked at the open air. A direction to follow. 

With a groan, Arthur resumed his pace and they entered the woods. “Just creepy woods,” Arthur says. “But I have never been in a wood grove before with some many tiny, sharp rocks.” He hissed as his toe caught on what felt like a root, but Arthur’s feet were stiff and numb. “My brains asking if I’m still sane, my feet are screaming ‘WHY?’”

“You want me to carry you?” Lewis offered. 

Arthur snorted, and declined the offer. “If I fall dead from blood loss, then yeah, go ahead,” he grumbled. “Not before then.” He winced but not from some vague piece jamming into the arch of his foot, he had heard something beyond their pants and footfalls but Arthur wasn’t sure. It didn’t sound any more specific than a tree branch cracking, or the leaves rustling, though there was no cool breeze about them. _Keeping going. Don’t stop._

At length Vivi snapped on the penlight, once they were a presumably safe distance from the village. They moved in silence focused on the odd sounds in the old woods, a constant twitter and scraping moved through the thin brush among the trees. Sometimes the sound of hooves would thud at the soft earth, but the sound was always near and Vivi never could pinpoint exactly where. They didn’t want to speak of the sounds, but presumed that something was there but for whatever reason or compulsion, it could not reach them. At odd times Mystery would bark and sniff at something unseen, and at other pauses Arthur thought he saw a pale figure melting among the bars of the tall tree trunks that engulfed them.

By the time they reached the van, parked in a small clearing just off the road, they were exhausted. Vivi fell down in shock when the light flashed over the bright yellow hull, stabbing out through the thick tangle of shrubs and trees that bordered the clearing. She managed to stay on her feet for the last few yards to the vehicles side and used it to support her weight.

“Who has the key?” Vivi gasped. She stood beside the back door and tried the handle, though that was pointless. “Please don’t tell me we lost the keys.” She turned the penlight on the door when Lewis emerged from the shadows, going through his pockets. Lewis hands shook as he took the key and shoved it into the lock of the backdoor. Vivi made no comment.

“Viola,” Lewis praised, as he pulled the two doors open. Mystery and Vivi didn’t waste time getting inside. “Quick Art, you’re almost there. Stumble faster.”

Arthur struggled to climb up the bumper into the vans back. “You’re one to talk.” Vivi grabbed Arthur’s hands and hauled him in. “Not so rough, Vi! My feet.”

“I forgot you lost your shoes,” Lewis mentioned. “You didn’t show it.” He pushed Arthur in and joined the group, closing and locking the door after him. Pale blue light glittered over the interior of the van, brightening and defining the inner walls and the few cuvees. “Are we safe?”

“That’s not the question that needs asking,” Vivi replied. She was still trying to catch her breath. She handed the flashlight to Arthur where he was nestled by the back of the bench seat, and he angled the light at the roof of the van. “The van is our home field advantage, we have power here. That makes us safe, but not enough.” Vivi crouched beside one wall went through the slots for items, charms, essentials. “What will work is to remove the curse from this book. Or… something.”

The light pulsed around the room, flashing sporadically until Arthur found a space in the floor among some blankets where he could wedge the handle. “Reassuring,” he says, under his breath. He pulls the first aid box out from under the driver’s seat and goes through the container, shoving aside crumpled band aid wrappers and half used up gauze rolls until he finds the bottle of antiseptic. He winces as he applies the cold liquid to the raw spots on his heels. “So are we cursed?”

“The book is,” Vivi answers. She pulled the tome out of the backpack and set it on the center of the vans floor. “It’s filled with the names of the missing families.” Mystery sat beside Vivi and stared at the book, one ear tilted and his brows fixed in a scowl.

“But why?” Lewis inquires. He sat across from Vivi cross legged, studying the withered surface. “The books protected for all those names, I get that. But why?”

“Some kind of ritual.” Vivi flipped the cover open and examined the first pages, turning each in turn slowly, careful of the thin texture. “In some cultures, names are a precious gift that must be guarded.” She fumbled with her backpack and freed one of the notebooks. “It’s ill-advised to give your name so freely when asked. You don’t know what someone might do with it.”

“Cool,” Lewis piped. “So… that would be a valid reason to protect a—” He paused when a sound came. The van was in near silence, aside from Arthur digging around in the first aid box and Vivi’s narration. Strange noises had followed them all evening, always at a careful distance. Scratching and whispers.

There came a knock on the door, faint with a pause between each rap. No one said a word. A low whine rose up beside the seat of the van, where Arthur was laying. The knocks began again.

Lewis cursed and turned to the wall of the van, searching in the cuvees. Vivi hissed at him, and handed over one of the sage bundles she carried in her backpack. He fished the lighter from his pocket and gave it a hard slap over his knee. The gray leaves burn red, Lewis blows the flame out and fans the tendrils of smoke over the surface of the door.

“I’m going to assume this thing can’t enter unless we open a door?” Lewis posed. “What’s the catch?” He twists around to a new knocking, on the side of the van. “Damn.”

“It can’t get in.” Arthur sat up and stares at the wall where the soft tapping echoed. “It can’t get in! The windows!”

Lewis dropped the sage he was holding. “Markers! Where’d we put the markers? Do we even have markers?” There were no markers, but he did locate a box of paints. He tore the container apart as he vaulted over the bench seat. “What was the barrier rune you copied?” 

Vivi leaned over the seat and handed Lewis the notebook. “Art, help me build some shielding circles,” she urged. “Get the salt and some candles, quick.”

“We’re doing this?” Arthur yelped. “In the van? Really?” Mystery yapped at him, and turned pawing at the wall of the van. “Is this the only way?” He jerked forward on his knees when Vivi grabbed him by the front of the sweater.

“We’ll clean it up later,” she hissed, voice strained. “Like it never happened. But you’re gonna have to keep it together, and help us through this. Get the salt, some candles, and more sage. It won’t be so bad, you’ll see. Stay calm, make some nice circles. You can do this.”

“Okay, yeah.” He nods. “No problem, I got this.” Arthur pulled the sweater front out of Vivi’s grip and followed Mystery as the dog nosed at the walls. “How’s it going Lew?” Arthur jumped back when the knocking thuds through the wall directly in front of him. It might’ve broken him from the panic momentarily, but he really didn’t want to see what Lewis was doing to the windows.

“About as good as you’d expect,” Lewis hummed. He did the two side windows first, dipping his fingers into the jar of black paint and making as neat of pictures as he could manage, with only the little light available that glistened off the sleek paint. A graceful curl ended the last mark, then he moved to the windshield. “I’ll be back in a sec to help with whatever you guys need.” A hard bang came from the passenger door right at his elbow and he recoiled, nearly spilling the paint. “Fuck.” He recovered and dabbed his finger back into the jar and leaned onto the dashboard. It was confining and difficult to maneuver in, but there was no better position to work beneath the large window.

“Make a circle here, and here. Mystery, you sit there.” Vivi indicated a small circle of salt that Arthur had traced out. Hard banging began to vibrate through the roof of the van, as if a parade had descended upon their heads. Vivi glanced up, the knocking was coming from almost every surface of the vehicle, it sounded like the ceiling and walls would cave in under the force of the clamor. “Hurrying would be advisable.”

Arthur was about to pick up the tome but hesitates and glanced to Vivi. “Are we gonna set marks on the floor?”

“I don’t think it would help,” Vivi admits. She takes the book and sets it in a circle and places another circle of salt around it. “Sage.” Arthur hands her one of the bundles he carries, and Vivi checked their vicinity. “The lighter?”

Lewis sprang down between Mystery and Arthur. “I need a ward scripture. Do we still have any?” he asks, as he set the container of paint aside. “Keep your hands steady, Artie. I always envy your circles.” He hands the notebook over to Vivi, and takes the long sheet of rice paper Mystery offered. “Thanks?” The dog shoved his paw over the blank page, pressing it into the floor, then returns to his spot in the circle where Vivi set a small carved stone figurine.

“You have the lighter?” Vivi sways on her knees as the van began to shake, not rock. The sharp blows became stronger, more fevered. Whatever plagued them, connected to the book, was steadily becoming aware of their intentions. 

“Give me a sec,” Lewis utters, as he fumbles with the thin sheet. A few circles, thin sharp lines, Lewis dabs at the paint bottle and finishes the sign on the rice page, all while he digs at his pocket with his free hand. He produces the lighter and clicks it open and raises the flame to burn the end of the sage Vivi held. She thanked him, and set the bundle upon the book and spoke calm words, despite the din crashing through their eardrums. 

Lewis swopped to the back of the van and pinned the stained ward script between the doors, by binding the corner and jamming it into the crease between the metal doors met. He used the last of the paint on his hand to inscribe a mark near the roof. Arthur wouldn’t notice.

“These need to be lit,” Arthur mentions, when Lewis shuffled back over. He shoves a couple candles into Lewis hands, and gives a short shriek in the same breath when a hard crash bellows in the vans wall. The clatter had risen and sounded more like rocks were being slammed over the metal sides, while the carriage continued to sway on its wheels. “How are there so many of them? Shouldn’t it just be one?”

“It’s just a desperate illusion,” Lewis rasped. “Don’t let it get to you, they can’t get in.” He recognized the Latin in Vivi’s voice, but he had only a vague idea of what she would be saying. Regardless, it always sounded beautiful despite their perile when she wove her words and sang compulsion or harmony, for the restless and lost souls, reeling them through the rift between existence and null until those with lingering ties to redemption could find their way. Without further comment he began lighting candles and struggling to set them upright, despite the violent motions of the floor. They would only need a few. “Remember, Art. They’re trying, but these barrier spells will stop them. Uh, Vi? We’re trying to… dispel the book, right?”

“We’re purifying it,” she says. “For our protection and those that may encounter it when we leave off.” Mystery set his bandaged paw on the book and glanced to his friends; Arthur cringed under the raging sounds and Lewis lit candles, giving sharp glances to the girl and dog with each wick lit and set. “Sever that from the ties to this book, and whatever law binds it to our world.” Vivi went to the side of the van and went through the cuvees along the low wall. She located a jar of soil and returned to the halo of glimmering candles surrounding the book. One candle tipped over, and Arthur snatched it and set it back upright.

“Here.” Lewis held a lit candle and carved into the wax with the edge of the lighter. “This’ll protect you.”

Arthur glanced dubiously at the ordinary, dollar candle that Vivi always bought whenever the chance came along. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?” Lewis’ smirk was comforting though.

“That would be cheap,” Lewis assured. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to believe that, either. C’mon Arthur, I’m right here.” Lewis took another candle and did the same, carving a shallow symbol into the wax. He sat between Arthur and Vivi, in one of the circles that had been made. 

Vivi spoke incantations, beseeching no ill will of whatever kept the tome guarded. The rapping on the van swelled to thundering levels, until Mystery’s ears ached and the group didn’t know how much more they could take. Mystery buckled and bent his ears back, but even that didn’t subside the roar of wallops of clatter coming all at once. “Hang in there,” Vivi whispered. She resumed her low speak. “Don’t look at the windshield,” she warned Arthur. “Focus on the candle flames.” Then Vivi smiled at him. She took the jar of dirt and unscrewed the lid, from it she took a handful and sprinkled a small amount of the soil over the books surface, and across the burning bit of brush leaves.

“The call is gone, the binding severed,” Vivi spoke. “Put your hand on Mystery’s.” Vivi set the notebook she had referred to aside, and plucked up a candle. Arthur stared at her, confused. He barely got out a sound as Vivi took his free hand and set it over Mystery’s bandaged paw. He and Mystery shared a glance, before the dog resumed his concentration. “Lew.” Lewis set his hand over Vivi’s. “By our will, we dismiss your malice. Our will holds strong, unbroken, and you will submit by our decree.” She spoke words, beckoning the force that hounded the van. “Be gone I say, be gone.”

Arthur relaxed a bit as Vivi continued, chanting gently. He took a breath and shut his eyes. “We dismiss you,” he murmured, repeating her words to the best of his ability. He paused when Vivi hummed a prayer, and resumed when her voice came firm rising as the bashing on the walls persisted harder and faster. “By our will, we are stronger. No challenge, no malice. Your chained is severed.” Vivi tightened her hand over Arthur’s. “Be gone. Be gone.”

Vivi brought the candle down and lit the corner of the book. “Your chain is severed. Your license above those given over to you is undone,” she hummed. “Return to the derivation. Do no more harm and depart in no ill will.” She jerked her hand back, and the group collectively recoiled when a wild burst of fire tore across the surface of the tomes cover and flared briefly. The display lastes a short moment, and all together the tremendous clatter plaguing the metal walls ceased, aside from a few far between and weak bumps around the sides. The soft crackle of embers bristle with an olive glow as the flame settles over the hard surface of the tome and diminished completely, the sage bundle upon the blackened surface reduced to ash. “Return to wince you were called,” she whispered. “Be gone.”

They repeat the mantra over and over as the thudding on and at the metal sides begins to slow with each passing minute. “Be gone, the bond is severed.” The sounds become distant and the rocking of the carriage ceased. “Be gone, your time is done. Leave in no ill will.” Frail rapping, like the first of the knocks that had occurred, persists at the back door of the van. Lewis fixed his tense gaze upon the barrier ward as the knock continues, slower paced. “No longer tethered, return to what once was. Be gone, be gone.” 

The air becomes still, the warm fragrance of sage and burning wax lazes in the small interior of the van and only the breathing of the group is audible. Arthur opens his mouth to speak, but Vivi holds up her hand with the candle and turns her attention away. They wait. Mystery grumbles something under his breath and perks his ears.

Sudden rapid trotting races into their hearing, as if cutting through the solid walls of the van and into the midst of their small perimeter. Lewis throws his arms around the group shielding them from no visible force, before an ear splitting _Crash!_ collides with the wall nearest to Vivi’s side. The van heaves sideways on its wheels, metal groaned as it rocked and their gear slide across the floor around the huddled group. The candles topple over, most going out leaving only the blue light of the flashlight to trail over the sharp contours of the walls. Somewhere beyond their protected zone, a shrill screeching rose up and the clawing panic of a body thrashed in the leaves. This went on for some undefined length of time, what felt like hours, before they realized it. The serenity of the night had resumed. Even then, they hadn’t found the strength to uncoil off the floor.

This continued over the course of the night. Vivi whispering prayers and occasionally burned the cover of the book, though the flame never penetrated the withered binding all the way, and never once harmed the delicate pages within. This only reinforced her harsh treatment of the Scripture, until at last a page caught light and only then did Vivi cease the flames and set the candle she held aside. Never did she pause in her words, or falter in her hymn as the night wore on. 

The first to fall into fidgety slumber was Arthur, taxed by wandering barefoot and left in the open air for hours before he could be rescued. Occasionally, Lewis would repeat along with Vivi the chant she spoke and restock the sage when it burned down. The noises never returned but a false atmosphere of respite had settled on the unsteady night, and a hard tension like electrical residue clung over the cold candles abandoned on the floor. 

In the dawn hours Arthur awoke now and then, stirred from nightmares of a pale figure standing at the end of a decrepit hall waiting for him, eyes hollow. It never did anything, it only stood and waited and watched. When the haze of light finally crept around the dark marks dried in the windshield, he was able to locate where Vivi had curled up on the floor in a mess of salt with her protector, Mystery, curled up in a tight bundle with his soft fur pressed into her head. Maybe Lewis had fallen asleep sitting upright, but he never moved from his stern vigilance of the vans back doors from where the knocks had first stemmed in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A before the Cave story.


	16. Chapter 16

##### 

Truss and Silhouette

Waiting and patience where two hard traits to master. Arthur was well versed in the methods of both, he was careful by nature and he had nothing he really looked forward to when waiting. These attributes where challenging for Vivi, who always found a way to pass the time if they were on the road headed in some direction. But patience for a specific time to come, and hurrying to do nothing for the duration until that specific time; that was another matter. Vivi could become too excited, especially when there was no matter to toil over for the here and not soon enough to be.

The temperature continued to drop at an increasing rate, until it was so cold Vivi could hardly stand it herself. She didn’t know how Arthur could manage it, him being sleeveless and stubborn on the subject of a good coat. She could sympathize with his reluctance of sleeves, but it seemed like the excuse of covering up his prosthetic for the few cold months would outweigh the negatives. Arthur couldn’t hide from her the discomfort he felt when people stared too long at his arm, but there was a multitude of reasoning and rational rattling around in his mind that she would never begin to comprehend. She couldn’t trample that.

She moved back to the driver side seat and curled up, staring out the window and into the contrast of tangling tree branches jutting across the pale sidewalk that encircled the park. There was wifi and she had splurged on that for a short time, until the laptops battery gave out. She didn’t keep track of how many ways she enhanced and fooled around with that one picture she took earlier that day. She had done other things, such as probed into other rumors but none had been as firm, had the same feeling as that little restaurant they had eaten at earlier. There was only one chance, it was very slim, but it was still there. A chance.

“I wonder where he goes sometimes,” Vivi murmured. No answer, but for the halt of metal twittering and clicking in the back. “I don’t really worry, I should probably, but I don’t feel like I have to. You and Galaham the same way.” The clatter and delicate work renews, and she can see the pale shadow on the ceiling of the van just above the seats back.

“I kind of forget to worry about Galahad,” Arthur admits. “It’s terrible, because I should. I trust my uncle with him and everything, but anything can happen to a lil dude if you’re not around.” He pondered over it as Vivi shifted again, this time perching her legs over the head rest of the driver seat. “Capable. That’s what I’ll say. I know Galaham’s capable of taking care of himself, you know Mystery’s the same. Worrying about them doesn’t fit into that.”

Vivi made a sound as she lay in the seat, her head pressed back into the curve of the steering wheel. “But anything can happen.”

“Anything always happens, and will happen. Trying to fight it is pointless.” Arthur set down his tools and studied the portions of the incomplete arm, still insect like with long bundles of wire hanging from the elbow. “The things I lack control seem pointless to worry over, when I don’t seem to have an immediate influence.” He looked up and was startled to see Vivi’s glasses gleaming in the light, from the bright glow of the lamp seated beside him while he worked. She watched him over the seats back with that odd, unreadable expression.

“You’re deep, Art,” Vivi said. “Did you realize that?”

A moment passed as Arthur tried to register what she had muttered, then he chortled. “I… had a lot of time to think.” He fixed his sight back on the prosthetic and did some unnecessary work. There was progress made but it didn’t feel like progress, it felt empty and only looked interesting. He gave up and collected the metal and motors, set them back in their box and opened up the compartment in the carpeted floor. Inside sat stacks of old books, maybe forgotten by Vivi but she had never wanted to part with them in the first place. He set his supplies and tools among the clutter and shut the door down.

“One day we should put a camera on Mystery’s collar, and just see where he goes,” Vivi suggests. Arthur brought a blanket with him as he slipped down into the passenger seat. “It’s still too early.” Arthur sighed and bundled up tighter. Vivi began to speak, but Arthur cut in saying:

I don’t need a coat, I am fine.”

Vivi huffed and spun around in her seat. She didn’t mind the cold. “Fine. But I was going to ask, what kind of fruit you would be if you could choose.”

Arthur hiccupped and sat up in his tight coil of blankets. “What?”

“I already know I’d be a blueberry,” Vivi stated. Soft scratching mingled at the metal door, and Vivi unlocked the latch and opened the door for Mystery. “But what would you be? A banana?” She scooted aside and gave the dog room to leap up onto the driver seat with her. “Mystery would be a coconut.”

“A coconut is not a type of fruit,” Arthur grumbled. “It’s a nut. Wait… I think? It’s kind of big.” 

Mystery cocked his head at Arthur, then looked at Vivi. He left them for an hour, and this is what he came back to? Vivi smoothed Mystery’s ruffled hair back. He looked at her and lapped at the few stray strands of hair poking out from under Vivi’s hairband. I don’t understand.

“I’d be a horned melon,” Arthur announced. “Those things are cool.”

“Horned melon?” Vivi questioned. “I’ve never seen one.”

“If we ever go into a none haunted grocery store, I’ll show you,” he said. “Maybe.” Arthur watched Mystery crawl closer to him and lay over the side of his blanket. “I hear they taste like banana, anyway.”

“As long as its banana themed,” Vivi replied. She unfolded from her curled position on the seat and twisted the key in the ignition. She made sure to turn the heater vents on Arthur and turn the heat up full blast, despite his disapproving glares. She didn’t care. Whenever she could directly interfere with his self-appointed misery with little protest, she would do so if only to annoy him.

__

The hour was getting late, it would be midnight in less than forty-five minutes. She turned to the outdated box monitor and scrolled through the long list of orders, most paid over card, some on credit, and the rest in cash. She added that to the iPad on the desk, and made a second note on the hard paper notebook on the counter. She checked the time on the iPad again and sighed. Outside, a car or two would whoosh by the window every other minute, solidifying perception of the late hour.

“You almost ready?” the voice called. She leaned back off the counter and looked to the tall teen as he came from the door to the back room, blue stained to his white apron and a white towel draped over his thin shoulder. “I just finished cleaning the stoves, and the inventories logged for tomorrow.” He crossed behind the pastry cases and looked into the glassed interior with the many cakes and cookies in their dark rows.

“Almost,” she said. “Half a page more. Could you replace the disk in the camera?” She plucked her purse off the counter and handed it over.

He folded his towel and set it on the counter beside his mom, then took her purse and plucked out the keys that were just inside. He wanted to tell her about the hits he’d gotten already on the video segment he uploaded, but his mom would just think it was ridiculous that people had actually clicked it. He gave a little skip as he crossed to the pantry cabinet beside the back door, and opened the tall case where the closed circuit camera was hidden on a shelf. The purse hung loose over his lower arm, while he stopped and ejected the disk. In the purse was a disk case, with the new disk to be exchanged for the new one.

A muffled song came from the purse, and he reached in to pluck out the small phone his mother insisted was practical and therefore perfect. “Hello?” he answered, as he locked up the cabinet. “Sorry, I wanted to go ahead and scrub under the stoves….” He stopped and listened to the voice. “I will. Mm-hm. Love ya.” He stuffed the phone and disk away, then tossed the purse onto the counter beside the heavy set woman. “Dad says he’s been waiting for ‘dramatic emphasis’ an hour. Also, he wants one of those ‘Aztec Éclairs’ if they’re still any.”

“Ooh,” she cooed, and shut down the large box monitor. “Lucky him, there is one left. But we’re going to share that little delight.” She folded the iPad up and stuffed it into her purse, and slung the strap over her shoulder.

He took off his apron and folded it up. “Y’know Bridget was lying. She can’t cook, much less an éclair.” He took a wax bag from the box on top of the glass counter and folded it over his hand. On the glass counter was a large glass dome, typical of most pastry shops, this featured a small note card with the ‘special’ of the day. His mother approached with a white paper bag, and he folded up the little chocolate stained pastry and set it inside.

“We’ll just let her have this victory for now,” his mother said. “There’s no reason to spoil her fun. Ready?” He nods, and tucks his apron under his arm. “Back door locked?”

“And the outside gate,” he assured.

They exit the little space behind the pastry counter and cross to the far side of the restaurant. His mother unlocks the glass door and steps out into the night, while he reaches out to the light switch—

And paused.

A faint, ambiguous creak emitted from some vague direction of the room. He turns and stares back across the shaded tables and chairs, and struggles to see into the dim corners where dark shades tangle. He watched one of the mirrors on the wall as its glossy surface trembles, but there is nothing in the reflective surface but a section of the restaurant and the wall behind the counter. He shrugs as the cold breeze from outside tickles his neck, and he flips off the light and leaves the empty restaurant to join his family.

The minutes tick by, taking ownership in small clusters as the absence of vigor settled in. Then an hour came by with a steady click or crack of the immovable walls, and swallowed up the collection of time in second strokes. It was almost appealing to sit and wait and reflect on the pieces that had lost meaning, on the cracks that marred a perfect picture. Sometimes it felt good to recall the lost shards of what must have been a distant past, but in the same flurry of emotion he felt the resentment for loosing such precious moments. All things taken for granted, mourned only now when they were no longer his.

He smashed his fist back onto the wall at his back, and felt the solid structure and imposing stature. He wanted to burn it, drag it out of the world that had left him. Make it understand. But a wall was as immovable in nature as it was in physical structure, and anything building on his own personal regret would not make a wall sympathize with him.

It struck Lewis how reminiscing could drag out old want and desires, but it didn’t strike him as odd. That should have been a first note of warning for him but he didn’t have the sharpness to care, not when his thoughts returned to his mansion, his sanctuary. It was not often he longed for it, but when he did he felt the hollowness burn into his core and essence, as though a crucial piece to his existence had been abolished. In these times he felt a bitter resentment, though he knew this wasn’t fair. He couldn’t shake the feelings though, they were branded deep into whatever passed for his ethereal essence.

He shouldn’t be here. He should have left a long time ago. But it was difficult to roam and move without a strong sense of destination locked in his thoughts. He didn’t want to get lost again.

__

Not much was said between them while they waited. The hours ticked by, even when Vivi was certain she had seen the truck of the owners drive off. She parked the van down the street from the soup and bakery. Beside her leg was Mystery, keeping warm as she stroked the soft mane on his back, even though the cold didn’t bother Vivi as much as it did Arthur. Occasionally she would murmur something to the dog, and Mystery would perk a ear or lift his eye brow at her curiously. Vivi was anxious to move but she knew it was too soon.

It would have been nice if Arthur could have lit the lamp in the back, but he settled for the dull haze of the yellow lamp from the street side, shading through the windshield with its meager orangey hue. The light catches over the clean side of the metal of his thumb, and the silver clashes over the tarnished surface of the locket. He remembered the morning following when Lewis failed to reappear, Vivi was in the bathroom while he gathered his cloths. The bundle popped out with one of his shirts and at the sight of the rich color of the satin cloth, it had made his knees go weak and he had fallen hard to the floor.

What was his game? If Arthur was meant to hand the locket over to Vivi, as he had originally intended, why didn’t Lewis just do it himself? Or was there another motive at work? The ghost might have fallen into some kind of trouble, but Arthur knew without a doubt if that were the case Lewis would have gone straight to Vivi. But Vivi wasn’t meant to have the locket, or was she? Since the mansion – like a far off nightmare – Lewis hadn’t made the attempt to hand her the locket since. It was Lewis’ anchor, that’s as far as Arthur concluded about it. If he were more ambitious he might’ve tried to exorcise Lewis, but Arthur didn’t have that kind of strength mentally or spiritually. But he felt that might’ve been a rational why he wound up with the locket, and he couldn’t blame Lewis for his suspicions. 

He ran his thumb along the crease in the side and. Not for the first time, he was curious to open it and see what was inside. But he couldn’t do that, he didn’t know if the locket would stay in one piece if he fiddled with it too much, he didn’t understand it. He shouldn’t even be messing with it. There was no mistake made by Lewis when he left the locket in Arthur’s bag, but Arthur didn’t understand the implications.

If Lewis was still around. That remained an inference. Arthur was skilled at debunking supernatural photography, but he refused to study the picture Vivi had taken.

“Are you ready?” Vivi asks, as she leans up to look into the back.

Arthur bundles the heirloom up carefully and stuffs it back into his pocket. He pulls the blanket tighter over his shoulders as he shuffles to the front seat, and takes Vivi by the shoulder when she pulls at the door handle.

“I should go in alone,” Arthur utters. Vivi turns in her seat to face him, Mystery tilts his head back to view Arthur. “I’ll talk to him, if I can. This whole mess is my fault anyway.”

“No, it’s not,” Vivi states. “You’re not going in there on your own and that’s final.”

Arthur averts his eyes. “Vi, we haven’t really been on our own together,” he murmurs. “Since the mansion. Never. Until, that bogus case.”

It hits Mystery first, though he had been keenly observant of their unconscious habits, he had not been aware of the oblivious tendencies of his companions. He whined at Vivi as she set her hand over his snout, and he nuzzled her palm.

“It was my mistake,” Vivi pressed. “I should have been paying attention – I got caught up in.. everything – the euphoria, the excitement. Us, together as a group like old times.” She stopped there and chewed on her bottom lip, peeling off the miniscule scab there. Mystery crossed his paws over her lap and leaned up, trying to convey some kind of sound without whimpers. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, Art, and it’s not fair that you should be the one to go in.” If they stopped for a break Arthur would go off to browse the shelves, but never made a purchase. He volunteered to run the errands or buried himself in the work on his new prosthetic. She swung her arm over the driver seat’s headrest and faced Arthur. “I wouldn’t go in without you or Mystery, it’s the same. We’re doing this together.”

“It’s not.” Arthur folded his arms over the middle seat and rested his chin over his cold arms. “Sometimes I think about those crazy jobs we had, even the none paranormal ones.” He sighed and watched the empty street stretching ahead, the cold glisten of light layered over the thin traces of fresh rain. “A lot of times I thought, ‘This is it. I’ve done it now. I can’t get out of this,’ and I was scared. Some loon in a mask, a low kilter spirit, someplace I wasn’t meant to stumble into – I was really bad at that. Most times I flat out gave up, I’m not ashamed of it. I couldn’t figure how I could get out of the deep shit I had gotten into.” Arthur rubbed his face on the loose sleeve of his shirt and glanced at Vivi. Her face was focused but vacant, as if trying to chase memories that had been lifted out of her grasp. “But more times than I can remember there was Lewis, at the right moment to get in the way, or drop a sack of beans.” He gurgled a low chuckle in his throat. “He had this innate way of catching up when it all… it all seemed hopeless.” He shut his eyes and tried not to envision that person standing there, and that clear unaltered voice that came with it:

_”Arthur, I swear. How do you manage this?”_

He reached down with his metal arm and gave Mystery’s ear a gentle scratch. “I should save him for once, even if it’s from himself. I owe him.”

Vivi hesitates, but nods. “We won’t follow.” Mystery pulls his head from Arthur’s hand and sets his head down on his paws and sighs.

“I’ll try not to be gone long.” Arthur drags his way into the back of the van, dropping his blankets as he moves across the floor, but stops when he reaches the back doors. He grabs his provision bag and knows Vivi must’ve heard his movement, but she doesn’t comment. He shuts the doors gently behind him and dashes up the street, toward the darkened windows of the small soup shop.

Vivi feels a small bud of panic in her chest but tries to stay calm. Arthur fades into the shadows, and it feels as if she’s already lost him too. There is no way to gauge what sort of condition Lewis will be in, even if it was only a short amount time that he was separated from them. It was a fear that had persisted in her since the mansion, she couldn’t find it in her to pair the two up when they went off on investigations. She did have a longing desire for restoring and reacquainting herself to someone that she had loved… was it deeply? Passionately? But there was that underlining fear was always there, always lingering in the back of her memories. It wasn’t fair.

“Mystery,” she mumbled, as she curled up into her seat and pinned her chin to her knees. “Why didn’t I do things different? What can I do?”

The dog whines and sits up to press his shoulder into Vivi’s and leans on her. You’re doing everything you can, they’re just being idiots. He rests his neck over her shoulder and snuggles close to her.

 

There was a back door into the restaurant, right off from the parking lot that was situated between the two buildings – an office complex and the restaurant. Arthur saw it earlier that day, and he expected the gate that entered into the small compound to be locked. He didn’t bother with the lock in the gate, it would be easier to just climb the tall fence, especially when there was no barbed wire at the top.

He dropped onto the top of the plastic dumpster lid and from there leapt down into the grease stained payment, the off scent of spoiled vegetables and bad dairy assaulted his nose. Arthur slung his backpack off over one arm and opened the zipper a bit, enough to get his good hand in. He didn’t need light to fish around, but the steady gleam of an overhead lamp gave him enough visibility to view his surroundings. Everything was done professionally, as he sought the gloves and packet from his backpack, he ran in his mind over all the information Vivi had given him. They did these sort of jobs… a little too often.

A pair of tight fitting gloves went over both his hands. His prosthetic left no finger prints, but a diligent detective could always distinguish irregularities between fingerprints. He slung his bag over his shoulders and went along the hard slate wall, until he found the white door. It had two locks, a deadbolt and hand knob. No problem. He leaned his shoulder into the door and fumbled with the small packet, his lock pick kit. The deadbolts were always easier for Arthur to treble, but the sappy hand knobs always gave him trouble. This didn’t make since, but if he was ever desperate enough he could always just snap the doorknob off.

The interior was dark and cloudy, the hall narrow and smelled thickly of cleaning fluids and rust. Arthur didn’t bother with the light, he pulled the door shut behind him and crept through the small room, the basic layout carved by the vague edges of shadows remained fresh in his mind. A low hum filled the janitorial room, some kind of machine or generator, he wasn’t sure. He put his good arm out and felt the surface of a wall, then the frame of the door. He had a little more trouble finding the handle in the door, only because it was lower than he expected and he kept missing it.

He sniffed at the air that washed over his face and pushed the door a little more as he entered into the kitchen. The lingering traces of vegetables and other foods remained, such as crackers and meat, beside the warm aroma of pastries and sweets. He stood for a moment in the doorway gazing at the glittering silver from a distant light, or maybe a memory.

_”Arthur! Hello kiddo. You keeping Lewis out of trouble?”_

There were stoves along one wall, countertops in the center. His feet sounded hollow on the floor, their echo reverberated for years over the walls. The metal felt icy through his gloves, he pressed his fingers into the surface and raised his other hand to his forehead and tried to ease out the ache in his mind. “I- I’m sorry. How many ways can I say it?”

_”I know you’re not into spicy things, hon. So I made you this. It has a tangy aftertaste, but its sweet, pleasant, and not hot at all. Give it a try.”_

He shivered and dropped to his knees. He hadn’t realized how cold it was. It had gotten so cold too fast. Arthur brought his metal hand to his chest and held it there as his heart pulsed, his mind tripped and clawed within his skull. “I couldn’t stop… I tried, I swear.” Arthur choked on his words and bowed his head down, cowering from the haunting voices in his mind. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t—”

_“Take care of our son.”_

He never went back.

__

It didn’t benefit him to go into just any shop, or place. Lewis didn’t fully understand but he had a gist of it, what it meant. He did get hopelessly lost when he wandered, the same way he did when he first awoke. Wandering. Is that why spirits became so lost and confused, something about corporal sense, the binding Vivi always spoke about. He reached his hand up reflexively to touch the heart there, but then recalled that he had given it up and the notion brought about a deep sense of despair, though he wasn’t sure what pained him more. Which decisions he feared, or which ones he regretted most.

The call had frightened him, and he had fled that place, those memories, what was left behind. Odd, how he thought he could run away, or venture to a specific destination that in all spiritual theory did not exist. But it wasn’t what he sought that compelled him, it was the thing he couldn’t release. He didn’t try to overthink these things, even at his most active. To him it felt wrong, maybe it was, probably wasn’t, but to him it felt wrong. Like he betrayed some bitter serenity he had found.

He again looked to the mirror on the wall. The suit, his ribs, ribs that should not be exposed, a vacant neck collar, and a skull. Lewis stepped back as the mirror cracked, jagged webs of magenta flared through the gleaming surface and the glass scatters beneath his suspended feet. _Oops._ He raised his fist to melt the frame as well, but a sharp bolt in his kinematic range caught his attention. He drew his fist back and spins himself to the door that led into the back room. He recognized that jagged sense of distortion anywhere and Lewis debated on pursuing it or keep his distance.

“C’mon Lew, don’t let me just wander around and talk to myself,” Arthur muffled voice raised, echoing, beyond those doors.

Lewis glides to the door that opened into the back room and was about to push it open, but he decides to simply slip through. He moves along the nearest wall lined with tall cabinets, his attention set on Arthur at the opposite end of the room. One of Arthur’s hands was gripped to the side of a cold stove set into the wall, his other hand was pressed to his brow.

“I can see why you came here,” Arthur says. He pushes away from the stove and weaves among the countertop islands, straining to peer through the shadows, his metal hand rests on the corner of a counter and he uses its stability to guide his shaky steps. He jumps a bit to a subtle tap, what sounds like the pots or dishes hanging on the racks at the wall clatter softly. He listens, but there’s no other sound aside from the dull hum of the machine. He spins around and stumbles back, but there is nothing in the open air. “Jeez.” He raises his hands and presses the cold gloved palms into his eyelids. “I just want to talk. Just give me a sign if you’re listening or not, I don’t care.” The dull rumble of the machine mocked him, and Arthur sighed.

“Hate me all you want, Lew. I can’t fault you for that. I know….” He paused, and thought over his words. “I didn’t want to. You know I couldn’t help it! I tried, god I tried. I knew I couldn’t stop, I don’t know what I was thinking, but it wasn’t – It wasn’t me, Lew! Why won’t you understand that? Maybe you can’t, I know… I know I don’t.” Arthur drew in a deep breath and brought one hand down, his flesh arm, to the countertop and kept his knees from buckling under his weight. His head ached, that harsh rasping in his thoughts. “It’s not just for Viv-vi, but I want to talk again. I swear… if we just talked, I know it’s not gonna fix what broke between us but – We… drifted apart.” He shook his head, and lowers his voice. “I pushed you… away. Don’t let me do it again. I can’t take this.”

Arthur ran a hand over his face and tugged at his goatee at his chin. He gave the room a brief scan, gathering in the calm gloom, the engine hummed obnoxiously. He groaned, despair leaking into his lungs. “I promised Viv I’d come back with you.” Promises in their group didn’t really work out, Arthur couldn’t figure out why they kept making that same mistake over and over. “What am I saying?” No sound answered, his voice echoed

He slipped the backpack off his shoulders and opened it up. He checked the surface of the countertop before he pulled out a candlestick. The lighter he bought was still in his, overlooked by Vivi. Arthur didn’t care, he lit the short wick of the candlestick and let the wax melt at the tip, so he could fix the candle to a spot on the countertop with the warm wax. He took a piece of graphite and pondered a moment, debating on a script that would work, he couldn’t hope to use the stronger runes but maybe it didn’t need to be compelling. He didn’t think it would work anyway.

He scrawled into the surface of a plastic cutting board, its top crisscrossed and stained by extensive use. It seemed to fit Lewis. Circles and sharp angles decorated the board, Arthur set the black polished graphite aside and reached into his pocket, he brought out the satin cloth and the locket contained. He unwrapped the cloth and studies the bronze coloration under the pale candlelight, the harsh contrast of the metal conflicts with the old gloves he wore. He set the locket in one of the circles and gave the room a last glimpse with his eyes, while the flame burned bright.

“I call out for Lewis Pepper,” Arthur spoke, voice unsteady. He didn’t feel like he was doing it right, he didn’t feel like he was allowed to do this. It had to violate something, but he didn’t want to overthink it. “I beseech you to reveal yourself, Lewis Pepper. I know this is really underhanded, but damnit, you leave me no choice.” He placed his hand over the locket and raised his eyes. “We’re not losing you again! I call upon you with all my heart and soul, Lewis Pepper. Show—”

“Boo.”

__

After the first five minutes Vivi lost track of time, but she kept resolute to Arthur’s wishes. She was nervous but didn’t want to admit it. Had Arthur made contact? Was he all right? She worried and fidgeted, and Mystery had placed his paws upon her hands and made soft dog sounds until she calmed down. He was a strange friend, but he continued to reassure her, despite his shared concerns. Alternately, she or he would check the driver side window, see no one, and settle back.

The night waned onward, until Vivi could no longer keep her eyes open. She curled up into the seat, and Mystery had brought to the front with them one of the blankets from the back and piled it over Vivi. Mystery coiled himself over Vivi’s side, and Vivi tried not to sleep. She wasn’t sure if she had or not, she thought she saw memories of when they were younger – she, Mystery, Lewis, and Arthur. Going down to the spooky creek, picking flowers (something Lewis liked to do, and Vivi enjoyed it), hanging out with Arthur at his uncle’s shop. She thought there was a raven once tapping at her window, as she sat in her room reading. It became irritating when the bird wouldn’t leave, and whenever she chased it off it came back

Vivi jarred from her dry rest and raised her head, her face collided with the sharp cold air that hovered in the van as the sleep clung to her eyes. She gazed at the driver side window and saw a bird with glossy black wings and a white face tapping at the glass. 

“Is she asleep?” That was Arthur’s voice, muffled through metal and glass. She recognized the way it carried through the door. The sounds slip away, she wanted to stay with them but it was hard to see past the dark mirror in her memories.

 

“Just let her sleep,” Lewis said. He stood aside as Arthur fumbled with his pockets, and finally produced that boo charm keyring. “I’ll talk to her in the morning when the suns out.” He hesitates as Arthur unlocks the door and pulls the latch. “And there are witnesses.” Arthur chortles softly to himself and steps aside, the dull orange glaze of the streetlamp glistened over Arthur’s metal arm in his short walk to the back doors of the van. Lewis watched Arthur's progress until the other ducked out of sight, the clatter of keys raised at the back doors of the van and the more audible thud of Arthur's prosthetic. A soft whimper came from Vivi at the intrusion of sound, though Arthur was doing his best to be quiet, Lewis was sure. He glanced to Vivi buried down under a dark blue blanket. “I’m sorry, mi arandano.” Lewis leaned forward and brushed some of the soft blue hair out of her face, and set his palm onto her forehead. “I’m not your burden.”

Vivi stirs and mumbled some incoherent sound, Lewis was almost certain it was a Latin phrase. It isn't long before Vivi settled down and Lewis is able to slip her away from Mystery, out off the driver side seat. “Lew’s?” she murmurs, eyes opening blearily at the suspended skull.

Lewis bundles the blanket around her tighter and moves along the van to the back doors. “Close your eyes,” he hums. “And I’ll be there.”

The van creaks as Arthur plops down in the front seat and maneuvers to draw the open driver side door shut, without a sound. Mystery gives a small grunt when Arthur bumps his nose while thumping around in the front seat. Aside from that mild interruption, the dog doesn’t stir to greet the return of his friends. Mystery gives a sly glare Arthur’s way, before twisting over onto his side.

“Did you mean to get caught in the camera?” Arthur questions, without looking up. He debated driving the van somewhere else, back to the park, but he could barely see straight let alone coordinate his prosthetic adequately.

Lewis set Vivi on the floor of the van and leans back, pondering. “Camera,” he echoes. “Camera. When was there a camera?” Arthur looked into the back of the van and located the skulls ember eyes, confused and uncertain, despite how the sharp edges of black contrasted over the bleached white. It didn’t sit well with Arthur.

“Vi swears by the camera,” Arthur mentions, instead. “Long story short, that’s how we found you.”

Lewis mulled it over as he swung the back doors shut. The creak of those doors compressing on the dry atmosphere of the van was subdued and irritating, it didn't suit his desires. He wanted to feel as if the doors were secure and they would hold off any shape of intruder, the curious or the dangerous. “I just needed some distance,” the spirit says, voice crackling. “Time to… think.” Lewis raised his hand to the front of his coat where the gentle thrum of his locket pulsed. Its return was indescribable, even if he had left it of his own will. Or was it involuntary? He might’ve been compelled too, by a force stronger than his passion and desire. He didn’t want to rationalize that. The mental contradiction was almost a physical pang.

“I meant what I said,” Lewis begins. He spun himself and looked at Vivi curled deep within her blanket. Carefully, he reached down to her face for the small lensed glasses and slipped them off. He gave the colorful spectacles a brief study, before folding them up and placing them within reach at the side of the vans wall.

“So did I,” Arthur muttered. He pressed his lips into the bench seat and focused on Lewis, on the ribs, the bright contrast and hues of his ethereal outline, melting into the black space of his surroundings as the looming figure rotate in place. “I wasn’t selling short,” he insists, voice low and rough. “Honest. In the mansion, I was ready.” He shut his eyes when Lewis tilts his skull. “And you were gonna do it too, you just…. Maybe we should drop it.”

A soft crackle emitted from Lewis, as he lowered down more onto the vans floor. Some crumpled box in plastic caught his lost interest, and he plucked it up. “We can always talk,” Lewis offered.

“Oh,” was Arthur’s toneless response. “Right. But… it’s hard to translate the stuff in my head. Always has been.” He hadn’t lain back on the seat yet. The blanket he had dragged with him was tangled around his legs and waist while his good arm prodded the latch behind his metal arm. Droplets of rain misted over the windshield of the van, causing the light to distort into jagged shapes and oblong, glittery jelly beans. He watched a few drops grow larger and wider before they connected and rolled down the glass in a crystalline thread. “One of these days.” He pulled the switch and tensed. The cold air made it worse, it seemed to amplify the sharp prick that traveled up his spine. Arthur jerked the immobilized arm free and slung it up onto the dashboard, a mild hope that the morning sun would warm it before he was driven to reattach it.

Lewis wanted to say something more, but whatever way he phrased it the words resounded in his thoughts, accusing. Arthur’s head slunk down out of sight, and Lewis judged he would be left to his own mediations for the brief/infinite span of the night. 

There were decisions but they had no choices. A choice was a possession but a decision was an action, both were powerful tools if given the right sort of labels.

_“I’m more afraid of the emptiness that’s left in your absence.”_

That’s how Arthur put it. It would be hard to go onward and find their routine, their semblance of normality. Arthur knew why he came back – the sort of personal business Lewis had not made amends with, what lines he had left purposefully blank. Vivi had gotten in the way.

No, that wasn’t true. She could never be in the way. She brought clarity, focus, and guidance. All things Lewis was lost without and hadn’t known he’d been missing. It was amazing what you miss when you didn’t realize it’s been lost. That was why this was hardest on Vivi and Lewis was mortified that he had distanced himself in this way. But, he knew she’d give him what was coming when she awoke.

He was not looking forward to that.

Lewis could enjoy the hours that she was tranquil. He knelt closer beside Vivi and pulled the edges of the blanket up around her shoulders. Vivi shifts and made a sound that might’ve been pickles, or tickles. Lewis wanted to feel the smile on his face, but maybe later when he had settled down. Much-much later.

The random patter of rain danced over the roof of the van, raising in acoustic ferocity and then tapering off into a faint hiss. Lewis studied the roof and the windshield, coated with a thin layer of moisture. He raised himself from the floor and half stepped, mostly glides as he moved to take his post behind the bench seat, where he usually lost himself while the others rested. He pulled up short when the end of his coat tail was snagged.

“Lew?” Vivi uttered, voice heavy and groggy. Lewis spun his skull to view Vivi. She sat on her knees, one fist rubbed at her eye while the other pulled at his coat. “You’re back?” She shouldn’t be awake, but Lewis really shouldn’t be surprised either. “Are you hurt?”

“No?” Lewis lowered more into her eye level and dipped his skull to his suit collar. “It’s almost morning,” he whispered, the sound of his voice twittered. “You should go back to sleep and rest while you can.”

Vivi withdrew her hand and rubbed at her shoulders under the thick sweater - cold or discomfited, Lewis couldn’t judge. “You left.”

“I’m back now,” he assured. Lewis reached his hands out to her but stopped himself. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” He didn’t want to say Promise.

There came the contemplative pause, and Vivi nurtured it where she sat without comment. The rain gently chattered over the vans roof, a cage to bar out the unwise, the wicked, those that were desperate enough to be out in the harsh veil of frigid water. Vivi brought her hands up to her face. She would have done this even if she were wearing her glasses, and pressed her fingertips into her eyelids. Lewis waited, feeling bitterness toward himself. “It’s really cold,” she murmured. “Could you just rest with me, for a change?” Lewis didn’t move. Vivi slides her hands down her face and looks up into his eye sockets. “I don’t want to wake up and you’re not there.”

That other side of him was scared. The fragments of him that remembered Vivi, and let her cool waves crash over his fever driven fire. Maybe in time, if Lewis just gave himself a little more time, the indecision and doubt would clear away. It wouldn’t confuse him, and he would begin to find this balance in this niche among friends, where once he had been forgotten. But he didn’t need to concern himself over those bits and pieces that scattered in his grasp, he only needed to know he was wanted and needed.

“I’ll be here,” Lewis’ voice crackled. He couldn’t promise, but he knew he would be. He lowers down beside Vivi and put his arms around her, and she leans onto his chest as he lies down. 

She mumbles some incomprehensible words, and Lewis rattles with confusion. “I said,” she whispered, “don’t think I’m just letting you off easy.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in Lewis’ thoughts, and the embers dim in his eye sockets as he settles his skull over Vivi’s bright hair. He coils his arms around her and soothed out his thoughts, distancing each reflection from his solidified state of presiding existence. “Have mercy on anyone that tries to tear me away,” Lewis crooned into her hair. 

Vivi sniggers, and buries her face in his chest. “I missed you,” she said, her fingers tightening on his suit collar.

“I don’t know if I deserve you,” Lewis hummed. But Vivi was already beyond the point of no return, her arms loose against his coat lapels and her breathing so subtle Lewis could scarcely detect it. “Please.” He coiled himself around Vivi’s smaller frame, shielding her from the cold air and the dark shadows that pricked at his coat edges – impenetrable, steady, and wholly present. “Forgive me.” He let the mild purr of his voice carry into something more human, and harmonized it into tender hymns. The gentle trill never faltered as the hours crawled by, calculated in obscure notion by the passive thrum of Vivi’s heart. Though he could make himself appear almost human, almost alive, the heavy rhythm within his chest was something he could not artifice. But for this meager span of time in the present, Lewis could be content to hold Vivi close to him and feel her heart beat through his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lewis has joined your party
> 
> Lewis is trying to learn fire spin, but Lewis can only know four moves. Delete a move and teach Lewis fire spin?


	17. Chapter 17

##### Stray Far

The numerous gloomy windows were long boarded up, some still glittered with tiny teeth not yet decayed out of the many gaping maws of each flat side. Tall trees shimmered under the moonlight, thin gray branches unruly and overgrown reached skyward; while across the cracked and gray layers of stone, vines tangle and wind up the walls of the separate levels of the buildings surface. One could almost mistake then structure to have been grown from the earth, rather carved from brick and wood.

A multitude of tall spires stick from the rooftops edge glint briefly under the sheen of moonlight, spilling down from behind a thick swell of clouds prowling patiently across the black sky. The mellow wind crooned through crevices along cracked rock walls and wood fences, built between brick walls that divide the sections of the building, its sleek cement foundation ends on the edge of a weed infested lawn.

The hospital seemed to loom now in the night, larger; even inviting the unwise explorer into its endless interior. 

“All right, let’s splint up!” Vivi announced, rather dramatically. She brought the finger she had directed skyward, and turned to indicate Arthur at her shoulder. “You and Mystery.” The dog at her feet yapped at the decision, Mystery’s red eyes flashed behind his spectacles. He fully agreed. “And I’ll keep an eye on Lewis.” Arthur glanced behind Vivi toward the taller figure, as Lewis removed his sunglasses and stuck them into the jackets breast pocket.

“Still don’t trust me on my own yet?” Lewis inquired. He caught the sideways smirk Arthur sent him.

“That’s part of it,” Vivi responds. She spun on heel and returned to the back of the van, the doors left open from earlier when Arthur had climbed out.

The small camping lamp sat between two backpacks, one was left open and stuffed with electronics. Vivi opened up the other bag and reevaluated the supplies set inside, nothing remarkable by her personal standards – the walkie-talkie, some sage bundles, an EKG reader, and a few other items that probably wouldn’t get used on this investigation.

For this particular ‘adventure,’ the van was parked in the back loading zone of the hospital where equipment and patients would be received. The hospital had been built in the budding new center of town, but its surrounding cousin buildings had been reduced to new structures, offices, and the hospital itself was abandoned in its bubble of time and forgotten setting. Its entire acreage of property was surrounded by a broken and haphazard chain-link fence set up after vandals began to break into the condemned structure, which as of yet had not received a date for demolition. The fence was more of a deterrent than a barrier and the group had no problem unbinding the metal twine that connected the two sections of the fence, and prying them open so the van could be moved through. Currently, the van was parked under the archway that stretched over the back entrance, concealed by shadows and nothing more.

“We probably won’t find much,” Lewis explained to Arthur, while Vivi poked around the supply bags. “But with hospitals, you never know.”

Arthur glanced to the wood plywood shoved into the main entrance doors, the dingy moist air from within hovered in the cold fresh air of the night. “Never know,” Arthur murmured, under his breath. “Hospitals always have bad energy,” he went on. “Why couldn’t we just check out that haunted hotel? At least we’d have an idea about what lurks there.”

Lewis smirked. “How ‘bout tomorrow night? Hey Vi, what about the Lakeview tomorrow? Arthur’s down with that.” Arthur scoffed at that and made his way over to the aged wood. In the poor light, he could already discern that there was a gap between the doors frame and the plywood. “I’m only joshin’ you.” Lewis followed Arthur.

“I read that loud and clear,” Arthur retorts. “Even in the daylight, hospitals are creepy. No matter how long they’ve been left.” He pressed his good hand against the wood and felt brittle splinters twist under his fingers.

“What’s your gear?” Vivi broke in. The subdued glow of light flashed under their gaze as Mystery padded by, carrying the camping lamp. She gave Lewis a mild glare as she stepped between him and Arthur, she held her bag low for the crouched Arthur to see into. “We shouldn’t need much. Better safe than sorry.”

Arthur takes his time answering as he ponders over the inventory. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small container of gum in the little tin packets and cuts two free. The flavor is rough and not very pleasant but it helps. “The sage and my lock picks. The chalk too,” Arthur says, half distracted as he tests the tension of the board with a slight push. “And maybe an air freshener.” Maybe Lewis didn’t want to understand a lot of things, but Arthur would bring it up later if he was up to it. There was a lot of material they skipped over whenever they talked, a lot of it was too soon for Arthur. Later. “Thanks Mystery.” Arthur gave Mystery’s head a rub and took the lamp from his teeth. “The dust right here’s been disturbed. Looks recent.”

Vivi knelt beside Arthur and touched the greasy layer of muck left in the doorway. “We’ll be extra cautious. It could just be the homeless.” She glanced back up at Lewis, and the silhouette with his bright eyes bobbed. “I doubt there’s some sort of cult in there.” 

Arthur chuckled. “But I’m here, so anything can happen.” Vivi took the lamp from Arthur and returned to the van, leaving him and Lewis in the dull gloom.

“Just holler and I’ll be there,” Lewis encouraged.

“What you always say,” Arthur said. “It’s not like I never do.” Lewis shifted beside him, and Arthur almost recognized the movement but the familiar touch didn’t come. The odd gap in reflex caught Arthur off-guard, but he thought Lewis had nearly recoiled. Or had Arthur been the one to jerk away? He brushed the sensation off and merely reached over to rub at his bad shoulder. “Look after Vivi if I fuck up.”

“Language,” Lewis rattled. Despite himself, Arthur snickered. That at last sounded like Lewis. 

Hospitals had potential. It was hard to find a hospital that didn’t have some amount of activity, unless it was brand new and not built upon some sacred burial ground. The rooms and halls were intended to receive the ill and dying, new life and soon lost life; they were built in response to a wide scale of accidents, tragedy. The roof concealed joy and sorrow and the walls were filled with regrets and miracles, and back in the day before modern medicine, the ratio of those brought in to enlighten ‘revolutionary’ medical practice sped up the rate of destruction rather than make comfortable those beyond healing redemption. They were built to organize the placement of the doomed, before they were constructed to heal.

For Arthur, they held different significance. Warped and terrible memories, sensations, but he kept this to himself. Endurance was his advantage, concealment was his strength.

“Don’t get separated from Mystery,” Lewis reminded, as the group divided. “He’ll keep you from getting lost.” It was more of an assurance rather than a reminder.

Arthur clicked on his flashlight and turned the soft yellow beam onto Mystery’s bright pelt. “I got it,” he called back. “I’ll catch up in a few.” Mystery led the way, and took immediate interest in an open hall that ran beside the corroded set of steps across from the carved wood receptionists desk; or what Arthur took as the receptionists desk, he wasn’t sure.

The light from Vivi’s flashlight was already darting up the set of steps that Arthur had bypassed. “We’ll hit the higher floors, and work our way down,” Vivi hailed down. She motioned to Lewis and was gone, hurrying up the steps and around a corner. Lewis called after Vivi with exasperation as she raced away.

Arthur paused to listen to Vivi’s thudding steps and tracked their progress from below. Mystery’s sudden yap caused Arthur to wince, and at the involuntary reaction, the dog brought his sounds back into softer whimpers. He forgot how jumpy Arthur could be, though the hospital felt quiet enough. Mystery couldn’t be too sure. 

“I’m a lil tense,” Arthur admitted. The light cut over the dust coated floor and alit on his partner for the evening, still giving small grumbles of apology. “I’ll be okay. Once we get moving I’ll feel better. It’s not like we’re gonna find anything, huh?”

Mystery stiffened and perked his ears up. When Arthur’s light nearly reached his face, the mutt wrenched away and began padding further down the corridor. He put his nose down and distracted himself with tracking, his concerns set at ease while Arthur’s flashlight draped around his shoulders and bleached out the old chipped wood.

“We’re not gonna run into anything here, are we?” Arthur pressed again. 

A low ‘urf’ was Mystery’s response. Nothing dangerous. The dog’s well-worn toenails clicked with each step in a steady rhythm, thick silt grit between his dark toes. Arthur’s steps were barely audible, cautious. At the halls end a set of doors had been left pried open, one had snapped off its hinge and lay slanted beside the wall.

Yellow light made pale blues appear moldy and drab. Maybe the doors had always been depressing, maybe the hospital didn’t rely on optimistic colors to raise the mood of those that rolled through them. Arthur reached out and rests a gentle hand on the edge of the door. A loud _Rrrr!_ sent him stumbling back from the door when it skid over the floor, only a fraction. The wall rumbled at Arthur’s collision and the entire building, from the foundation to the roof seemed to shudder in irritation at the sudden disruption of placid rot. Arthur pants and pressed the torch against his chest, as his breath heaved.

Mystery sprang in place and performed a complete three-sixty to face Arthur, eyes wide and white fur bristled on his shoulders. 

“Sorry,” Arthur spat. “Old door, rickety treacherous door.” He peeled himself from the wall and gave the door a light kick on passing, yet this caused the door to snap off its last hinge fully and crash onto the floor. Arthur charged out into the open room and away from the treacherous door, nearly running over Mystery in the process. “Damnit!”

More barks and half snarls choked in Mystery’s throat as he hastened away from Arthur’s legs. Are you trying to bring this place down? Mystery trotted from his path and leapt upon the springs of a bed, half fallen sideways from a broken leg.

“I think something’s really out to get me!” Arthur crept between the rows of beds, his light reached to the furthest side of the room. Somehow this was good news, there was no constraining presence gnawing at the edges of the light he cast. 

Mystery just shook his head and dropped to the floor. He padded up beside Arthur. There is nothing here out to get you. The dog snorted and bumped his shoulder beside Arthur’s leg. He did this again, this time without Arthur flinching from the touch. I’m here for you.

“Thanks,” Arthur hummed. “I got the heebie-jeebies something bad. This place is just creepy, I don’t care if it is haunted or not, it’s flat out creepy. You can’t change that about hospitals. Even lived in ones. I HATE hospitals, but here we are. Why? ‘Oh Arthur, c’mon,’” he gushed, with a not so feminine voice. “‘We should at least use the equipment. It’s been sitting for too long, and the schools so nice for providing it.’ As if they care about our research.”

Mystery barked, his voice echoing through the open and long room. He didn’t recall it happening that way.

It was a ward, a dozen or so beds lined the walls, some of the grungy metal frames were shoved across their path. The tall canopy rods, curtain less and naked, stood around or crumpled to the walls in vague metal heaps. The floor was littered with metal, decayed and melted cables, piles of moldering cloth. Mystery pulled a front paw back when his toes poked into something smelly, but the texture he could not place. He flinched when Arthur blew a bubble, and popped suddenly.

Arthur leaned low when they reached the next large set of doors that led out, into a short corridor with another set of doors at its end. It was a dark and small intersection, unnaturally so, and very cold. Arthur pushed the torch into his metal hand and reached his flesh knuckles up to his lips and breathed into them. It had stopped raining at least, but it was still cold.

There wasn’t much of the connecting hall, aside from some graffiti and a crushed can of beer. Arthur poked it with his foot but couldn’t read the labeling, but he judged it would be decades old, probably. Mystery stayed closed as they reached the dark and imposing duo doors. Light shimmered through the circular window where the glass had been shattered, a few murky shards still stuck within the frame like ragged teeth. Arthur gulped, nearly swallowing his gum, as he shuffled forward and pressed one of the doors open ajar.

Mystery didn’t wait for Arthur to get a good look in. Once the door was open a fraction, Mystery slipped on through and examined the expanse of the moonlight washed room. Arthur hissed something at the dogs tail, before he too gave up and followed into the small room.

Ruble cluttered most of the floor with large portions of wood and some steel. The ceiling was low and as Arthur moved his beam across the slanted pieces of timber, he came to the conclusion the shape reminded him of a straw hat sloping and twisting. There were no windows in the room itself, the light came from the upper floor where the windows were lined, a few shattered but most had been boarded up long ago. Through the open window, the branches of a tree shuddered in a frail breeze.

Arthur froze when Mystery gave a warning snarl. At the edge of the floor above, a dark face peered down. Before Mystery could bark a warning Arthur had taken off, feet hammering at the wood floors. Mystery followed, a shrill bark clapped out in their retreat.

__

The rooms were filled with interesting shadows, old equipment and glass bottles, the kind once filled with fluid and blood; all of it now shattered and scattered. Many of the doors that had once sheltered the rooms from disturbance were gone, torn off their hinges or removed completely to elsewhere doors go when buildings are abandoned to vandals.

Vivi coughed at the dust that scattered about as she moved quickly, to the next room then the one across from it. She tested the doorknob and pressed the bent steel panel inward when it opened. The EKG clicked dully as she passed it along the walls, one wall had been shattered and chunks of plaster lay around the broken bed frame it crumbled over.

“Should have ordered a warm tea to go,” she grumbled. She was annoyed the device had not keyed in on anything interesting, not even a plug socket. Briefly, she wondered how Arthur was fairing, if he had remembered to use his equipment at all. But he was always weird about breaking the free stuff. “Still no readings.”

Lewis passed his hand along the doorframe as he followed her in, at a distance. “Are you sure you changed the batteries?” he asked, as if that would contribute in some way. He jerked back when Vivi spun on him and raised the black box with its forked prongs facing him. Lewis frowned at Vivi’s bright smirk.

“It works on you,” Vivi chimed. As she whisked away, Lewis caught the bright lights flashing along its base before the reader flat lined, and resumed its default state. “I couldn’t resist.”

“You lasted longer than I thought,” he mentioned. Lewis followed her towards the lone window of the room and peered out, onto the courtyard in the hospitals center below. “You know Art and I had this bet going.”

“Ooh?” she hummed, staring out the window at the dry fountain and the overgrown paths carving through the jungle of a garden. “Lemme guess, Arthur won?”

Lewis scowled at the top of her head. “Ouch, that hurt.”

There was no point in having the EKG reader on with Lewis right beside her, so Vivi shut it off and leaned against his arm. “Was I right?” she posed.

“Nailed it. I owe him a week’s worth of coffees.” Lewis put his arm around Vivi’s shoulders and she looped her arm around his lower back. “Can I borrow a lot of money?”

“How ‘bout I just pay you what you’ve earned,” she suggests. “We’ll work out the details later, don’t worry about it.”

“I gotta worry,” Lewis groaned, his voice a little scratchy but not in a bad way. “I think I went broke the moment you mentioned ‘pay.’” Vivi laughed and pressed her face into the sleeve of his jacket. The conversation ended there, and Lewis just watched the soft tones of the foliage below while Vivi focused on a blank space of wall, where her light didn’t reach. At length Lewis says, “This is nice.”

Vivi hums out a sound. She untangles from his arm and turns the reader back on. With a few steps between them she checks the dial face for change, a fluctuation. “We won’t spend the whole night here, if we’re not finding anything,” she says. Vivi pulls her backpack from her backside and opens the side. By the time she and Lewis exit the room, she’s located her walkie-talkie and has it exchanged for the paranormal seeking instrument.

“Hey Arthur—? Damn.” It was sending but as usual, the other end was not receiving. Vivi pulls the transmitter away from her ear, and she slips the straps of the backpack over one shoulder. Some habits…. “He shut it off.”

Lewis grimaced. “He still does that?” He was only half surprised.

“He got better at not doing it.” She’d keep the walkie-talkie in case Arthur needed to get in contact with them, but she doubted it. Mystery was with him. Vivi adjusted the backpacks straps over her shoulders as they resumed walking. “He might’ve forgotten to turn it on in the first place,” Vivi said, and she kept muttering under her breath as she continued along the hall. “I swear we need alphabet magnets to attach reminders onto his arm.”

That soft almost familiar laugh came from Lewis as he followed. “Won’t that mess up his arm?” 

“He’ll have to learn fast,” she grumbled. They came to the end of the hall and Vivi raised her flashlight to examine the cracked plaster, the remains of a picture frame still clinging to a nail by its broken wire. A hallway extended to the right and left, but from their poise she couldn’t judge where the stairs were located. The air was clogged with chill and the murky reek of old books and the memory of alcohol. “How do we get down to the lower floor?”

“To the right,” Lewis deduces. He placed his chin between his fingers and followed Vivi’s light, down the left hall. “Yeah. If my sense of direction hasn’t failed me, we head to the center of the hospital. There’ll be stairs, or an empty elevator shaft? Maybe.” His feet had risen from the floor in anticipation, eager to move on or scout or something.

“Right it is then. Right?” Vivi piped, and aimed her cool blue torch ahead for the path. Lewis drifted a few feet, small flashes of magenta embers flare up at his heels after him. Vivi slowed her pace and watched, Lewis was probably not aware he was gliding. In any case it was fun to watch, and she didn’t want to ruin it for Lewis. He was so self-conscious of his spiritual manifestations, but Vivi had not come up with a method to consult Lewis over it. The time would come but not now, not until—

She pulled up short and peered through a door opened part way, and movement – she was certain it was movement and not a trick of the light – as it ducked into a door. “Lew, wait,” she hailed. “I think I saw something. It might be Art.” She followed the small halo as it identified shapes and loose spaces in the floor.

“Hold on Vi!” Lewis kicked off to the wall, intending to cut through and meet her, but recalls immediately his jacket wouldn’t allow this. His voice grated as he cursed, and skipped beside the wall until he reached the corridor Vivi had disappeared into. “Hey Vi? Vivi?” He began trying the door handles along the way, most were unlocked but some rooms had no doors and no evidence of Vivi. It upset and alarmed him, how could they get lost this fast? His eyes had been off her for a half second, it didn’t make sense. “Vivi! I lost track of you, where’d you go?”

Through his searching of every room available, he finally reached the end of the corridor. But Lewis knew that Vivi would have come back once it was apparent she had lost him, and this conclusion only panicked him more. How was it possible to lose track of someone in one long hall?

“Vivi! Vii!?” Lewis set his feet upon the floor and looked between the left and right halls, and it occurred to him how similar the two halls looked, almost identical to the ones they had pondered over before electing the right hand direction. Did he even leave those halls behind, or had he someone gotten turned around? Lewis spun in place and stared into the long dark corridor he had sprinted through, the many doors shimmering with moonlight. One side of the rooms faced the courtyard, but the others didn’t. Was there even a courtyard? No, don’t get turned around.

“If you’re there and you’re watching,” Lewis hissed, bright flames crackling over his clenched fingertips. “I want you to know that I will find you.” He swept through the nearest doorway and slammed his arm across the half rusted steel. The door _thunked_ against his arm and cracked off its hinges, it skipped halfway across the ruble strewn floor before crashing into the shattered remains of a bed frame. Lewis swooped through the room and alit before the window, peering through broken glass into a night saturated with gray and black.

__

The people walked with a slow, liquid pace. Everything felt very blurry, there was something akin to dislocation about the hazy light and the sharp glisten of metal as it moved. Even the sounds were wrong. A voice buzzed through the old microphone attached to the upper corner of the room.

“ _Dr. Fredrick. Please report to Ward 9. Dr. Fredrick…._ ” The dull voice became garbled, as if the speaker had begun speaking through a hole in their throat.

Each room was filled with people, usually two or three. Most the doors were kept closed but some were open, and she could see them in their beds covered with sheets. It was very warm, almost unbearable. A nurse exited one room, dressed in her skirt and hat. Vivi staggered back and pressed herself into the wall as the woman walked by, without a glance or any indication that she had detected Vivi.

“ _I should have the reader out_ ,” Vivi thought, but she didn’t move to retrieve it. In part in fear that whatever she was witnessing would dissolve, in part that she was too stunned to do more than stare and absorb. She continued along the wall and examined the rooms that came up in turn. The same scene in each, nothing about it struck her as odd or unusual. A hospital, a hospital trapped in a time frame somewhere long distant and past, left behind in time. A surreal place to be lost.

Near the corner of the halls end was one more door left open, and inside a man sat on a bed as another spoke to him. What she identified as a doctor held a clipboard to his chest and nodded his head, but his expression could only be described as contemplative. ‘Treatment’ and ‘high risk’ floated to her, but much of his words were lost in the wavering, distortions of vaporous sight.

“I’ll leave you alone to consider your options.” The doctor turned from the man seated on the bed and looked up, directly at Vivi. She stared back, situated right in the center of the doorframe where she had stopped. Vivi frowned when the doctor made no further movement, through the people around them began to fade, melting away, trailing gooey mirages of color as they vanished.

“Good evening,” the doctor said.

“Hey,” Vivi answered. She raised a hand to wave, but never dropped her eyes from his. “Um….”

“Remain calm,” he says, and he peers at Vivi carefully. “What are you doing on this side?”

Vivi chokes on her words. Other side? “I… uh, I got lost,” she sputtered, taking her eyes from the doctor as she backed away. Which way should she go? Where? How did she get out of here? “I was with a friend.” She bumps into the wall behind her and jerks her head back to the doctor, as he steps out of the room after her. “I… um, I….”

“A friend?” he asks. He’s not as tall as Lewis, but she still stares up at him when he snatches at her wrist. “Do you mind? You look rather pale.” Vivi shakes her head. He looks down to his own wrist and the watch there as he presses his thumb into the niche of her wrist. “Just relax a bit. You say you’re here with a friend? Is he in the other ward?”

He looked human, but none of this is real. Vivi shakes her head, he’s pressing too tightly on her wrist. “We were looking around.”

“I see,” he murmurs, still focused on his watch and silently counting. “You shouldn’t do that. The hospital is no place to get lost.” He goes quiet, before he releases her wrist and steps back. “You should come with me for a moment.” Vivi doesn’t move, in fact she’s inching away. “It won’t take long. I’m concerned for your health. You see, by law I’m not supposed to care after non-colored patients, but maybe if you don’t mind, an exception could be made?” He motions the now empty room he had exited.

Vivi stares at him for a moment, before it registers in her mind. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. Uh… I can only stay for a little bit.”

“This won’t take long,” he assures, and steps into the open room. “I’m Dr. Salazar. What can I call you, miss?”

“Vivi. Just Vivi,” she says. She goes to the other bed that had been empty upon first examination of the room, and plopped down on the stiff mattress. She watches as the Dr. Salazar takes a notepad from his white coat pocket and sets it onto the clipboard. “Have you been working here long?”

“Hmm,” he says. Dr. Salazar takes a light from his coat pocket and shines it in front of her face. “Follow the light, please. Not very long, give or take. I’m gonna listen to your heart.” He takes the stethoscope from around his neck and takes the circular piece and presses it to Vivi’s neck. “Are you getting enough sun, miss Vivi?”

“Just Vivi,” she answers. “And yes. Plenty.” She rolls her eyes. He is a classic doctor.

He moves the listening piece to her backside. “Cough.” Vivi coughs a few times, and he asks her to stop. “What about your diet? Eating plenty of veggies, fruits? Protein.”

“Yes?” Vivi tilts her head down and tries to sound convincing, but even she knows a questioning tone is not assuring. Dr. Salazar writes down on his clipboard, or the notepad set there.

“Ah-huh,” he humphs. “Do I need to show you a food pyramid?” Dr. Salazar puts his hands to his hips and Vivi wrinkles her nose at him.

“I know what one looks like.” She set the flashlight in her lap and fiddled with the edge of her skirt.

“Somehow I doubt that. How many hours sleep do you get each night?”

Vivi groaned. “Five.” She looks at the finger directed at her.

“No. Double that,” Dr. Salazar enforces. He resumes writing on the notepad. “More variety in your diet, more sun….”

“I don’t like the sun,” Vivi grumbled.

“Well, you need it regardless your preference,” the doctor mutters, still writing. “My abilities fall short of whether or not my patients are willing to cooperate. Understand? But you’re young. And don’t work so hard.” Dr. Salazar paused to gesture around them. “This isn’t good for you, all of this.”

This catches Vivi’s critical attention, and she frowns at the doctor. “Wait. What?”

“Here. Try and follow this list,” he answers, and hands over the page from his small notepad. Vivi scans over it briefly, and feels her pride is wounded in some rude way. “And lay down, try to get some rest.” Dr. Salazar steps away from Vivi and moves to the open door. The intercom gurgles with another message, for a Dr. Hemmington, or someone with ‘Ing-on’ on the end of their name.

“Wait a second.” Vivi leaps up from the bed and charges after the doctor, the little wad of paper clutched tightly in her hand. “Hold on! I have some more—”

When Vivi reached out to touch his white coat, the hall was dark, the walls ugly and broken. The foul wall of dust and mildew crashed into her sinuses, and she gagged a she stumbled from the open room. Her mind reeled, what had happened? Everything had decayed, she could scarcely recall what the hospital had been like in its prime. The years and years melted away fresh plaster, and scorched the once finely polished wood of the floors. It took a few seconds for her mind to reacquaint with the current, true, state of the hospital, and accept that the illusion or whatever it was, had faded completely. Everything was gone, but not completely. It was too dark to see, but in her hand she felt the brittle paper the doctor had given. No doubt it was scrawled with her prescription, but Vivi wondered what he had written precisely.

Once she had recovered from the transition, she raised the flashlight… the flashlight was completely drained and its plastic shell was icy in her palm. Vivi sighed and crouched on the floor, she brought forth the backpack and dug through its pockets seeking out the spare batteries. The paper she couldn’t examine it, and she really wanted to, but not by candle flame. She elected one of her notebooks and pressed the note flat within it, and stashed it away safely. The notebook wouldn’t be needed, this she was certain.

All the fresh batteries fell to the bottom of the bag. This was the law of gravity and inconvenience. To add onto this, none of the batteries worked in the flashlight. One set after the next and Vivi was growing increasingly impatient when it became apparent, that all of the new batteries packed and even the EKG had been drained of power. She crouched and fumbled in the dark with the ends of the batteries, this was not a new task and she was certain the replacements were end to end and should work.

“That’s just great,” she hissed. She raised back a fist to throw aside the last pair of drained cells, but decide better. The hospital was trashed and she didn’t need to add to it. She dumped the batteries into the backpack and hunted for a lighter but even that was a long shot, Vivi didn’t recall packing it this time. “Who packs candles and forgets the lighter?” she muttered. “Me, that’s who. This is perfect, absolutely brilliant. If Art finds out, he’ll never let me live this down.” She slung the backpacks straps back over her shoulders and reached out, touched the wall to her side and teetered forward. The only light that present was at the halls furthest end, in the vague outline of a doorway. 

“Lew!” There was no answer, aside from the creak of the floorboards when she took a step. She hesitates, Vivi couldn’t see at all and the building had been condemned for a half century, maybe longer ago. Even during the day it would be dangerous exploring through without a reliable light source, the halls were too twisted, too deep. “Arthur? Mystery?” She shivered. “Is anyone… Hello?”

A loud crunch came not far from where she stood, and Vivi backpedaled from it. “Who’s there?” she croaked. A dark shape shoved something across her path, it sounded like a door or part of the wall had been wrenched loose. The only distinguishing bits were the glinting eyes and the bleached surface of the knuckles, its hands still raised. “Lew?”

“Vivi,” Lewis gasped, as if a spirit could pant. “Are you okay? I couldn’t find you! I got turned around, and you were just… Gone!” Vivi went limp when he stooped forward and wrapped her up in his arms, she was almost certain they were suspended in midair. “I couldn’t find you,” he repeated, voice trembling in her chest. “I thought you were lost.”

“I was,” she whispered. “Not intentionally, I got tangled up in something.” Vivi exhaled a heavy breath and closed her eyes. A rest didn’t sound too bad. “It wasn’t hostile.”

“It could’ve been,” Lewis rumbled. She could see the flames flash along his neck and reflect over the drab walls.

“Don’t ruin your jacket,” she burbled. Lewis dithered, calmed, and the flames fade from his shoulders. She would check for damage later. “We’re still looking for Arthur.”

Lewis was still tense, but he leans down and releases Vivi to stand on her own feet. “Yeah. I can’t believe he didn’t hear the commotion I raised up here.” This was another reason for Lewis’ agitation, Vivi knew.

“No time to waste, then.” She spun around, but recalls the drained torch left her at a disadvantage. “I can’t see.” She scoots back, her heel skimming over some thin, slick bar on the floor and nearly caused her to fall. Lewis had moved, the glimmer of his eyes descending low to her height.

“How about we not take the chance of getting separated again?” he offered.

It wasn’t difficult to make out where Lewis’ shoulder were in the dark, with his eyes gleaming right above them. Vivi released her flashlight when he tugged it from her hand. She touched the edge of his jacket, but paused. “You didn’t burn up the walls looking for me, did you?” Lewis smelled smoky, but not like scorched leather. Scorched leather wasn’t a pleasant smell, so it was unlikely he went blazing through a wall in a fit of rage. The sight of that would've been endearing, if not frightening in another setting.

“No,” he defended. Lewis eyes vanished as he twisted his face away. “I got a little warmed up, but I wasn’t planning on doing anything reckless unless I knew for sure you were actually hurt, or something.”

Vivi climbed onto his back and looped her arms around his collar. “I can take care of myself, thank you,” she said. Lewis raised up, stood up or hovers up, she couldn’t tell. “And don’t you dare deny that.”

“I won’t,” Lewis whimpered. On the contrary, it felt like she was the one protecting him when times turned rough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a ghost just happens to stay somewhere because reasons. No conflict, just ghost business.


	18. Chapter 18

##### 

Abandon Destination

Soft sheets of fuchsia tinge rolled up and down the walls from the only source of light mingled around Lewis’ dark hand. The sleeve of his jacket was rolled back to prevent the heat from taking to the leather, and Vivi found she couldn’t take her eyes off the shimmering light. It made the shadows around them cower, drawing forth the true nature of their surroundings into depressing aspect.

“When’d you learn to do that?” Vivi asks. Though her voice was below a whisper, in the vacant air it felt like she shouted. A million questions bubbled inside her, but she wasn’t about to assault Lewis with the twenty-twenty. Not while he was comfortable enough to reveal a slice of his spooky nature to her. 

Lewis pondered the flame at his hand as he walked, flexing his fingers and brightening the flames intensity at his palm in the same motion. “I could always do this,” explains the ghost. “Control is something I’ve been trying to get a handle on.”

“Nice pun.” Vivi sniggered into his collar. She caught the flash of his eyes as he glanced back.

“Oops. Pretend you didn’t hear that.” Lewis lowered the blaze of the fire at his hand, revealing bits of shattered glass and leaves scattered out from the room beside them. His other arm was looped behind his back to provide Vivi with a seat while she piggybacked. The hall came to an end and he paused studying their surroundings and listened. The wind picked up and whistled through the boards in one of the windows along the decayed corridor, and he couldn’t help but twitter along. Vivi pointed out their course and Lewis moved on that heading, near silent as a timid draft.

The flame wasn’t for his guidance, it was to give Vivi perception of their space. In a way the bright glow did haunt him, but how could Lewis fear his own fire? It had kept him company through a long and lonely time.

“There’s the steps,” Vivi announced. She leaned up to the best of her ability on Lewis back and directed a finger to the steps nearly missed in the selective highlights of the magenta smolder. A rusted shopping cart was left tipped along the first step, tattered grocery bags lay strewn over the downward staircase. Lewis moved carefully, slipping through the solid masses gently to prevent them from catching hold of his boots. “Now, if only Arthur didn’t roam up to the second floor.”

“That’s almost too much to hope for,” Lewis said. He stepped down the steps, always cautious of the ruble outdated equipment, and other broken parts that had been scattered around over the years. Hovering might’ve been easier on him but it could also be disorienting moving downward, and Vivi could easily lose her grip. Though she might find that exciting at first, he wouldn’t risk it. “Where are we now?” he posed, once they were on the bottom floor. An ancient pair of corroded gates stood beside the staircase with a large cutout rectangle in the side, with wires sticking out. One of the earliest versions of an elevator in a hospital.

Without comment Vivi indicated one hall to the left, through a gaping doorway. Lewis held his flickering arm in that direction and followed the vibrant glow of the light creeping down and up the walls. It was another series of rooms filled with broken, iron saturated reek, and a long corridor; before Lewis stopped in his tracks. Vivi was about to ask, when she too gathered the faint echo in the distance. Voices.

“I’ll take a look,” Lewis said. He knelt down and let Vivi climb off his back.

“Wait. Wait.” Vivi snatched Lewis’s sleeve before he could douse the fire in his palm. As he stood by and waited, Vivi dug through her backpack and pulled out one of the candles. Lewis pinched the wick as if to extinguish the flame, but instead a soft magenta flame flashed under his fingers as he withdrew his hand. “Be careful,” she urged. Lewis gave a short nod, then spun away. 

With a flick of his hand the flame scattered out into the dark surroundings in a sputter of sparks, and Lewis melted into the shadows. Vivi slung the open backpack with her as she slipped aside, behind a crusty and broken cart left leaning over a desk. Windows lined the lower wall, but many remained boarded up with plywood chunks, and somehow the teasing light that managed through the cracks only seemed to enhance the dark shade that thrived in the neglect. She could pick out voices. A dog yapped, that was Mystery, he didn’t sound alarmed. There came a pause in the faint chatter and a light flashed across the room.

“Vi,” Lewis said, as he returned. Vivi could see his sunglasses glimmer in the candlelight as he moved near her range of light. “Art found someone hanging out here.”

“Huh?” She was caught completely off guard. It wasn’t unheard of to stumble across people sheltering in old abandoned buildings, but the rule was to avoid them and call a night of exploration to an end. “Are you sure? A living person?”

Lewis reached over the cart she crouched behind and helped Vivi up to her feet. “As far as I can tell?” Lewis says. He guides Vivi towards the light of Arthur’s torch, but she’s careful to check the revealing dome of the candles haze for wreckage underfoot. “He might be a runaway,” Lewis continued. “They’ve been talking for a while.”

This side of the hospital seemed the most out of repair, and despite the strong light intermingling she was having trouble finding safe space for her feet. And there was a runaway? Here? “How old is he?” Vivi pressed, with a small note of alarm. 

“Dunno,” Lewis admits. Whatever the previous conversation consisted of, it was on hold as the group gathered. Arthur had himself seated on the fallen side of some electric box or machine with Mystery draped across his lap. The Runaway in question had elected to keep himself secluded in an open closet, where he must’ve settled earlier as his shelter. Beside the closets doorframe stood a wooded chair that worked as a side table, with a flashlight left on the seat of the chair and aimed towards Arthur a few yards away. “This is Vivi,” Lewis introduced.

“Hey,” the boy said. He made no other motion to greet, and his voice was toneless. The light barely cast colors onto his face and he seemed small and pale in his small seclusion.

There came a short hitch, where the collective group was unsure of where to renew or begin a new conversation. At a loss Lewis glanced Arthur’s way, Arthur only shrugged; Vivi met Lewis gaze and frowned, she turned back to the boy. “And your name is?” Vivi began.

It was Arthur who answered, “He’s Dimitri.” Arthur tried to suppress a sneeze but failed, and his recoil caused Mystery to gurgle irritably. “He’s got complications.”

Vivi pulled the candle closer to her front, revealing more of her face to the figure huddled in a nest of dark folds – sheets or blankets, it could be curtains. The ruin of a hospital was no place for the living, it barely stood against the harsh elements and sheltered the insects within its walls. “Are you from around here?” she tried. In the dull light of Dimitri’s amber torch was the scarcely discernable shake of his head. “Far?”

“Probably,” Dimitri admitted. He shifts in the old sleeping bag he was curled up on, and prodded the sides for a warm spot. Dimitri was positive that at the first indication of hostile intent he could get up and running, and get lost in the shadows before they knew it. What weirded him out the most about the group was the guy wearing sunglasses. That was just dumb. “Bet you never heard about me.”

Given that the Mystery Skulls were constantly on the move when they could manage, it was unlikely. But he was a runaway. “How about a last name?” Vivi gently prodded.

The boy studied the intruders with listless eyes, and trembled despite the ratty denim coat he wore; it did nothing to hold out the greasy, chilled air. He hadn‘t gotten much from the blond on why they were here - explorers, investigators - they weren‘t looking for him. No one was looking for him. “I’m not giving it,” Dimitri muttered.

Vivi exhaled and looked to Arthur. No wonder Mystery was napping. “Okay. Time out,” she says, gesturing with her hand. She turns and begins shooing Lewis and Arthur away. “Time out. Let’s go. Mystery, keep an eye on him. Hey, wake up.”

It took some rough shaking from Arthur before the dogs head snapped up. Mystery gave a long stretch along with a loud yawn across Arthur’s lap, before he sprang down onto the cluttered and dust riddled floor.

Dimitri stared at the dog now seated, watching him. “You’re kidding, right?” He sniggered.

“Nope,” Vivi called back. “We’re not going far, just hang tight.” 

The last to catch up was Arthur. He handed his flashlight over to Mystery, and trailed after the glimmering candlelight Vivi carried. He was nervous over the distance he had fallen behind and began to trip over some ancient electric cord strewn between dismantled metal frames of beds or equipment. “I had the lighter, right?” Arthur’s voice reached a high pitch at the end of his sentence, when he nearly ran into Vivi. Lewis managed to catch his vest collar and pull the shorter figure out of his stumble. “I didn’t even carry candles. Wait, I don’t think I have a lighter.” Arthur was digging through his pockets but had found nothing to produce.

“I might’ve hidden them from you,” Vivi muttered, and withdrew from Arthur. “What’s he told you so far?”

The twisted expression that had been a wounded Arthur reset, and became soft, doubtful. He glanced back to the visible light clashing with the gloom and whispered, though he was sure they were far enough away that their voices couldn’t carry. “It’s not typical,” Arthur began. “The way he explained it, he didn’t run from his home, he ran from his town.”

“His town?” Lewis echoed. “Was he bullied?”

Arthur managed a thin grin. He didn’t want to think what Lewis might do NOW with the prospect of bullies lurking. In life Lewis was all bark and no bite, unless someone just really had to get on his bad side (the rare lunatic); but vengeful spirit of the flames, who knew what he might be capable of now.

“No,” Arthur assured, his voice a bit garbled from the musty air. He cleared his throat and went on. “Unless he’s lying, which I took into account. It’s more feasible. But it bothers me a kid like him would come to here to escape… something.” He folded his arms under the edges of his vest and shuffled a little closer beside Vivi, and the pleasant glow of the candle.

The way it was explained, Dimitri lived in some obscure town with his family and his lifestyle was just so-so regular. Enough was shared, though Dimitri didn’t want to go into too much detail about his personal life, in case his parents were looking for him.

This was the point in the conversation where Dimitri became nebulous. It might’ve been his fatigue and the cold, but he was rickety over the notion that his parents would be missing him. He didn’t think they wouldn’t care, but they might have… forgotten. That was a good way to put it, though it made them seem callous. They weren’t callous, there was just something wrong. Dimitri didn’t know how to explain it, didn’t even try to figure it out. He didn’t want to be a hero and crack the code. You couldn’t be the hero once you ceased to exist.

The teachers were the first to indicate something was amiss. They talk about these important things when they think the students were busy or out of ear shot. Like the group and their dog, thinking he wasn’t paying attention. Actually, he didn’t care. Another meaningless day gone, the end of a week, one more week and another month gone by. He wondered who it was this time.

The dog ‘arfed’ around the flashlight in his mouth, getting his attention, or warning him that he was being watched.

“Yeh, I got you,” Dimitri grumbled. He pulled the sleeping bag over his side and propped himself up on one elbow, and tried not to nod off again. No, he didn’t think they were dangerous people. He couldn’t tell that just by looking at them, even if the light was better, but they could as easily be unhelpful people and drag him off to the police station for identification. 

Alerts were sent out for all the other kids but no one ever looked, not really. For a while there would be a curfew, another school program about stranger danger, then everything went back to ‘normal.’ Like some kind of quota to fill, to say they tried to buy back their own lives. Teachers, police, even the parents support groups. And what happened if you returned? He didn’t know.

“Don’t freak out,” Arthur hailed. “We’re comin’ back over.” Dimitri shook himself and sat up a bit to see the light bob around in the dark. The candle guiding the group back from their powwow wasn’t hard to miss, with blue girl behind it and Arthur close to the bright bubble. “Are you asleep?”

“No,” Dimitri answered. “I’m not about to anyway. Anyway.” He shoved the sleeping bag away, and winced. The harsh cold stabbed through the denim coat and onto his skin, causing a violet shiver to wrack his muscles. He watched the magenta light approach and could make out the two, but where’d the tall dude go? He must be somewhere around, probably on hand if Dimitri decided to run.

Vivi was inching closer, past Mystery and his flashlight. Dimitri didn’t seem distracted, but she wasn’t getting too close. “We talked it over,” she says, and catches the boy’s attention instantly. Vivi stopped a few feet from Dimitri and stood right in the path of his flashlights dingy orange beam. “We don’t want to leave you here like this, but we’d prefer if you came with us under your own consent. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Dimitri hesitates. He glanced Arthur’s way and judged the lanky figure could catch up to him, if Dimitri decided to bolt, but the blonde had a higher chance of falling first. “You… can?” He knew what was coming, but there was still the missing third member.

Vivi found a clear space on the floor beside the chair so she wouldn’t be boxing Dimitri in, and lowered down to her knees. Candlewax was spilt on the floor to adhere the candle, and Vivi brought her hands to her lap. Dimitri watched the mild tremble of the flame for a moment.

“It wouldn’t be right to leave you here,” Vivi went on. “Do you see where that puts us?”

“Who’s ‘us’?” Dimitri ventured. This brought about a brief explanation of Mystery Skulls, Paranormal Investigators, a group of friends curious of the unexplained. “Do you sometimes find kids hanging out in the places you explore?”

Vivi shrugged. “Kids don’t usually hang out in spooky, haunted places.” The colors of the outdated flashlight and the pristine shimmer of the flame clash over Vivi’s blue sweater, as she leaned towards Dimitri. “Have you ever considered that something unexplained has happened to your hometown?”

Dimitri stares at her, unfocused and uncomprehending. “What?” he yelped. “No! Maybe some kind of government cover-up, and they’re paying off all the adults involved. Y’know, buying human cargo. Have you ever watched Coma?”

Vivi blinked. “Uh… yeah.” She leans back from Dimitri and snatched a brief glimpse of Arthur, now knelt beside Mystery. “The government thing sounds possible...?” Arthur twirled a finger beside his head.

“You actually believe me?” Dimitri scoffed. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Adults didn’t usually believe in kids, that was some violation of a rule or something stupid. “Are you serious?”

Vivi sighed and classed her hands together in her lap. “What should I not believe? Which story are you fabricating? You’re ‘runaway’ story,” she quotes with her fingers, “or this government thing. Are kids not going missing in your hometown? I’m trying to be helpful, being a smartass with me is not helping.”

And adults usually didn’t curse in front of kids. Dimitri was wide eyed and stunned. It wasn’t like he never shouted profanity before, but it was unexpected. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. “I promise I’m not lying. I don’t have any proof, but this stuff is really happening and I got… I didn’t want to wind up like the others. I don’t know if that government thing might be real or not – we made up all these stupid stories for fun, me and my friends. While it was… fun.” He averted his gaze. They were so stupid. Idiots.

Vivi gave Dimitri the time to collect himself. “Did your friends go missing?”

Dimitri shook his head. “No. I’m not sure. I don’t want to talk about it.” That’s why they weren’t allowed to talk about it. Something about entering the story, making it real if the danger was attributed. Stupid stories. Dimitri raised his eyes as the candlelight moved. The girl plucked it off the floor and raised it beside her glasses, causing the vibrant colors to glimmer like twin sets of eyes. She held out a hand.

“I promise we’ll help you,” Vivi spoke, hand extended. “It doesn’t matter if it supernatural, government conspiracy… some kind of cult thing. We believe you, and we’ll help you.”

Dimitri looked at her hand, then her eyes. “Does this mean… I have to go home?”

Vivi nods so faintly, he nearly missed it. “But you miss your family?” she adds. “Don’t you?”

A flash of pain crosses Dimitri’s face, but it might’ve been the sudden wobble of the flame when he reached out to take Vivi’s hand. “I do. Yes,” he groans, and hung his head forward.

“I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed with your return,” Vivi insists. “And who knows, going back might do something. Wake them up. You never know.” Dimitri nods but refuses to look up. “Can you stand?” He nods, and Vivi pulls on his hand as she moves to rise, always careful of the candle still held in her hand. “Gather up whatever you need, we’ll carry it. Is the sleeping bag yours?”

Dimitri took his flashlight from the chairs seat and turned his back on her. “No,” he says. “I got it from a donation bin.”

“There’ll be blankets,” Vivi says, as she steps away. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

It took Dimitri only a few minutes to gather up the few possessions he’d picked up while traveling on his own. Most of his clothing was being worn in preparation for the night, with no heat source, and the nights getting colder and colder. He managed to get some control over himself before he turned to the group. They had moved further across the room beside one of the dark windows, but the dog maintained his usual post with the flashlight still held in his mouth. The dog stood up as he neared and waited, but Dimitri dithered to approach them. He was only familiar with one and suddenly, he couldn’t recall the name. The third member had rejoined sometime while Dimitri was busy, and he and the blonde seemed to be arguing? This shouldn’t come as a surprise.

“This is a bad idea,” Arthur hissed. He was hunched over the candle Vivi held amongst their circle, with his arms plastered to his ribs. “Aside from the obvious,” he nudged his head toward Lewis’ way, “if we get found with this kid, there won’t be bail. We’ll be over. Done.”

“Chill Art,” Lewis cut in. “If we get pestered, Dimitri can just explain we’re on escort. You just got to breath, and don’t panic. Panic bad. Especially when it calls for fleeing from lost, confused kid.”

Arthur groaned, exasperated. “I was startled! Mystery, tell him!”

Mystery sniffles as he picked his way over to them. How long was he to hold the flashlight? He barked announcing Dimitri’s return, the dreary orange beam of the boys flashlight lagged behind the dog.

Another rasped tangent threatened to spill from Arthur, if Vivi hadn’t gripped his lower face between her fingers and squeezed his lips into a tight pucker. “You wouldn’t abandon Galaham in a creepy old, mold infest hospital, right?” Arthur nods, but begins to shake his head under Vivi’s persuasion. “We don’t leave kids alone, unsupervised, in spooky, haunted places.” Arthur shook his head – no, they didn’t. “You’d want us to adopt little Arthur if he ever got left in the scariest place in the world.”

“Indle Erfur?”

“Am I going to be a problem for you?” Dimitri blurted out. The girl released Arthur’s face and the taller member of the group flinched back. “I don’t know if I said it yet, but I can live without ever going back. You get what I’m saying?”

“You’re far from being a problem,” Vivi replies. “You want us to carry something?”

Dimitri clutched the duffel bag to his chest. “It’s all I have, and I’ll hold it.”

Vivi let the matter go. She looks to Mystery, still with that flashlight. “Which way did we come in?”

If someone will take this torch. Mystery tapped over to Arthur and shoved the light into his thigh, until Arthur relented on his warm, safe bubble and uncoils one arm to take the flashlight. “You did us a great service,” Arthur mock gushed, as Mystery led the way back through the room and the fallen electrical boxes. “Even if you did nearly short out the thing with your drool.” 

Mystery yapped at him. You’re over-exaggerating.

“Does this old place not scare you a little bit?” Vivi asked. Dimitri’s flashlight was old and the light barely covered enough of the floor to reveal the broken wood panels, or the crushed and folded pieces of metal. She kept the candle lowered between her and Dimitri.

Dimitri shakes his head. “It’s creepy,” he says. “But there’s nothing that could hurt me. I haven’t been here that long, anyway.” He tries not to notice the taller figure to his side, not right beside him and boxing him in, but just there. He was tall.

Light conversation was exchanged as they passed through the dark cluttered halls, and vacant moon splashed rooms. Dimitri admitted he never really explored the hospital at night, and his discomfort toward the eerie mutation of scenery was not missed. Vivi talked to him, she avoided questions and just told him stories she’d read about some of the places they’d visited. At times Dimitri would reciprocate and talk about some of the towns he’d breezed through, though his focus then had been getting enough food. As a kid it was easy to get some money, but keeping a low profile was harder. That was before Fall hit. Arthur sympathized with Dimitri’s disdain for the ‘intrusive’ cold.

When they reached the Patients entrance, Lewis pried the warped piece of plywood back for Mystery and Arthur to exit first

“I would feel so much better if we could contact your parents,” Vivi said, as Dimitri slipped under the small opening and out into the fresh air of the night; the task was made difficult due to Dimitri’s reluctance to release his bag. “Just to let them know where you are, and that you’re coming home.” She took Arthur’s hand when he held it out, and he steadied her as she slipped under the thin opening with the candle.

Dimitri visibly stiffened at the harmless comment. He stood away from the group and watched Vivi join them, and never took his eyes off her. For a moment Vivi thought he was going to run for it. “No,” Dimitri murmured. “I’ll go back, but I don’t want anyone of them to realize I ever left.”

Vivi lowered the candle and let its fuchsia light settle thickly over the gritty brick floor. A cryptic fear lingered in Dimitri, perhaps a child’s fear but it was no less worthy of empathy. It made her reevaluate Dimitri’s explanation over the cycle of missing children. Forgotten, but not missed. Vivi was jarred from her musing when Arthur started choking. The torch clattered to the floor under him, the light sparked and dimmed but didn’t go out. Arthur clutched at his chest as he wobbled away from Lewis, standing near him.

“Crud, are you okay?” Vivi yelped. Mystery darted out of the way when Vivi rushed to Arthur, and took him by the shoulder. She handed Lewis the candle and hit Arthur on the back a few times. “What’d you— Did you swallow your gum?”

“I think something startled him,” Lewis mumbled. The torches bulb pulsed faintly as he reached down to pick it up, and directed the light at their feet.

“Yeah,” Arthur gagged, and coughed harder. Vivi gave him another pat on his back, and his voice cracked as he cleared his throat. “I’m okay now. I’m fine. Don’t hit me again.” He snagged Vivi’s arm, and moved the crook of his other arm over his mouth as he continued to wheeze. Vivi pulled her hand away, but held onto his shoulder a little longer and waited, until she realized which arm she was holding. She withdrew her hands completely.

“Be more careful,” she said, with nothing much else to offer. She led Arthur to the mingling light of the torch and candle Lewis held. He was already at the back of the van with Dimitri, talking about the van and why the side of it was scratched up horrendously. The lights ducked around the side as Lewis wandered off.

Vivi set her backpack down on the vans back bumper and was going through the interior pockets. “We kind of needed the light,” she called, as Lewis went on explaining:

“We’re good drivers, but that semi came out of nowhere.” Lewis’ voice perked up as he rounded the bright amber corner. “Sorry. I panicked.” He winced when Vivi snatched the candle from his hand. “I’ll just… keep an eye on him… then.” Lewis darted away, the yellow haze of the torch flashed out in his soundless withdraw.

Arthur looked aside to Mystery, as the dog strolled out of the gloom cast by the eve of the tall arch. “I get startled,” Arthur said. He knelt down and pet Mystery’s head. “That’ll never change.” He looked up at Vivi when the audible rummage through her bag ceased. She held the candle flame up, letting the fuchsia glimmer coat his face and shoulders. Through this exchange, Arthur could see the doubt in her eyes. “We’re trying,” he whispers, voice strained. “Trust me.”

Vivi turned her eyes from Arthur, and reached into her bag to pull out the spare key. She unlocked the doors, wincing as they groaned across the cool stillness of the night. “Get in. Take it easy,” she urged, and handed Arthur the key. “Wait.” Vivi pulled him back by his vests edge and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re strong, even when you forget you are. You get stronger when you remember that. Okay, go take it easy now.”

Arthur wobbled out of the embrace, and flopped over into the back of the van as he tried to crawl up inside. Mystery followed, tiptoeing around Arthur’s ankles.

“Lew,” Vivi called. She poked around one side of the van, then hurried around the other opposite corner in haste to find the two. When she reached them, Lewis was describing some house they had explored in one adventure she didn’t recall. She dismissed the lapse, and waved the candle their way. “You wanna get Dimitri out of the chill?”

The expression Lewis gave was part sheepish and fear. “Are you cold?” he asked, as he reached over to try the passenger side door. “Why didn’t you say something?” A click came when Arthur unlocked it, and Lewis hauled the door open for Dimitri.

“It always seemed a lot colder in that building,” Dimitri mumbled.

Vivi left them to return to the vans back. Mystery was revealed in the candlelight, alone, as she climbed in and began going through the cuvees for supplies. She half listened to Arthur and Lewis as they spoke to Dimitri, preoccupied with the unusualness of a guest. Mystery watched, chin on his paws, as Vivi elected a few sticks of incense – she counted three - she retrieved a box of juice from the cooler box and one hostess cake, outside she selected a few lost bricks to assemble these items on. She lit the incense with the candle and set it beside the unwrapped cake and the juice box, with the bendy straw set in it. It was not the first time that she wondered whose idea was it to buy juice boxes; she suspected Lewis.

The display was not elaborate and not necessary, but it was customary. She stood up and bowed to the doors. “Thank you for safe passage through your grounds. Please accept our tribute, and find fulfillment when you are ready.”

__

They had a motel room and that was where they were headed. Dimitri struggled to keep his eyes open as the lights flashed hypnotically through the windshield. It must’ve been very late, there was hardly any traffic out and he saw far more police cruisers than civilian cars. He hugged his duffle bag tighter to his chest and wedged into the passenger door more.

The one called Vivi hovered over the center seat watching through the windshield, and sometimes made quiet conversation with the blond driving. He wasn’t listening. At one point she looked Dimitri’s way, and said, “You need to get a good night’s rest, and think about what you feel we should know before you tell us anymore.” Followed by: “Are you hungry?”

Dimitri ate two large crates of fries. He still clung to his duffle bag to him as he chewed away diligently. “Can the dog have fries?” he asked. Mystery was lying on the middle seat between him and Arthur, the back paws were sprawled out over Arthur’s lap, while Mystery’s front paws reached over to Dimitri’s thigh. The dog was weirdly calm and hardly ever looked at him.

“He likes fries,” Arthur answered. “You done with them?”

“No.” Dimitri held one of his fries to Mystery’s nose. “Why does he wear glasses?” Mystery looked at the offered food item, then at Dimitri and slanted his dog eyebrows.

“His insurance wouldn’t pay for contacts,” Arthur muttered. He turned the van into the motels parking lot. “Plus, they look cool.”

Mystery took the fry and ate it.

The thick grumble of the motor cut off when Arthur cut the engine. He held onto the keys as he spun around to face Vivi in the back. “Sorry Mystery. I didn’t tell you to put them there.” The dog yapped when Arthur twisted in his seat, upsetting his legs perch. “Are we just going up to get our stuff?”

“Yep. The rooms a mess.” Vivi motioned her arms around as she shuffled to the bench seat. “It won’t take us long. But for the night, the room’s yours. You can make a pillow fort if you want, there’s that complimentary soap; you can have a bath bomb.” Vivi pointed over the seat to Dimitri’s face. “But don’t wreck the place. Can you handle all that?”

Dimitri stares over his duffle bag at Vivi. “Uh… yeah.”

Arthur was already climbing out the driver side door, and Mystery scooted out after him. “Awesome,” Vivi praised. She hopped the seat, and jerked her thumb back over shoulder as she bounced out. “Wait her and keep an eye on Lewis. He’s still grounded.” She was gone, and Lewis poked his head over the bench seat to give a dubious glance the way Vivi had skipped off, before turning to face Dimitri.

“You guys are so weird,” Dimitri sighed. He fumbled at the lid of one of the fry cartons he held, the over sat on the dashboard where Arthur had stuffed it.

“Heh, you noticed?” Lewis quipped. “Do you feel safe with us, though? Be honest.”

The boy blinked under his untidy hair and thought it over. That question was kind of scary and he wasn’t sure if he could answer it, or if he understood his answer. He didn’t know these people, he didn’t want to go home, but he didn’t want to keep running. He never wanted to leave in the first place, but going back now?

“The police would help you,” Lewis elaborates, and flicks his hand up above the backseats headrest as if shooing away the first question. “But I know for a kid, sometimes the police… aren’t the best option. What I’m saying, you have choices. Tell us what you feel better with why don’t you. You’re smart, but maybe misguided? We’ll listen.” It wasn’t noticeable before but Lewis had an accent, and it came through heavy as he spoke.

“Why do you care?” Dimitri asked. He set aside the empty carton of fries and took the next one from the dashboard. “Kids go missing every day, and no one cares.”

Lewis folded his arms around the headrest and set his chin down on his arms and stared out the windshield. He thought a moment, the parking-lot lamp above glittered odd colors over the lenses of his sunglasses, mixing the yellows and purples. “It’ll make a difference to you, won’t it?”

Dimitri stopped chewing on the fries and stared at them. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I want it to. It should. It has to.” He shut his eyes and pressed his face into the duffle bag. By the way Dimitri’s shoulders shook, Lewis expected him to cry. But Dimitri didn’t make a sound, and eventually pulled his face up and looked at him. “You believe me? Don’t you?” His voice was an edge from pleading, nearly insistent. It didn’t suit a child so afraid of the home he had fled.

“Kid,” Lewis hummed. “I don’t know what you’ve seen, but we believe you. And we’ll do whatever we can to help. I— ” He winced, and cut off the words to follow. The vans radio chirped briefly and flashed, its sudden noise startled Dimitri and Lewis gave the dash a sharp glare. “The van’s kind of old.”

“Oh.” Dimitri fell silent after that, and contemplated the remainder of his fries. “I’m not hungry anymore,” he mumbled.

Lewis drummed his fingers on the seat back briefly. If he leaned forward he could see the night sky through the windshield, but in the heart of the city under the glaze of lamps he couldn’t see the stars. The sky was black, oily, and had all the contours of a moldy mop head prodding into the edges of roof eves and tree tops. “You think you’ll be okay on your own tonight?” he asked. Dimitri raised his shoulders in a meager shrug.

Voices twittered through the open driver side door. Lewis leaned back as Vivi shoved her overnight bag onto the seat. Behind her, Arthur was catching up and complaining about something, if Lewis was listening right.

“You okay?” Vivi climbed onto the seat and set a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“I’m just thinking,” he answered. “And tired.” He clasped the fry cartoon between his hands.

“Lew, do you know where the walkie-talkies are?” Vivi turned back to Dimitri and held out one of the plastic card keys. “Mystery will stay with you tonight. He’s a good listener.”

“Oh… er, thanks.” Dimitri took the card key and stared at it. “Thanks.”

“Lewis,” Arthur hissed, through the vans side. It was a comical tone, it was Arthur being playful. “Open the back doors. Pleaasssse.”

“What’s the password,” Lewis whispered. He appeared beside Vivi and handed over the walkie-talkie. She was trying not to smile.

“Is it alpacas?” Arthur said. “It had better be alpacas, I warn you.”

“Or what?” Lewis rattled.

Dimitri looked up at Vivi when she handed him the walkie-talkie. “What’s an alpaca?”

Vivi smirked. “It’s like a llama, but cuter.” She sniggered. It was the idea of alpacas and Lewis slipping through her thoughts. She could hear Arthur mutter something as Lewis wretched the doors open. “I’m sorry,” Vivi muttered. “You ready to retire for the night?”

“I guess.” Dimitri tried the passenger door, and found it would unlock automatically if he pulled the handle. “Where’s the room?” On the other side of the door was Mystery meandering around the pavement. He looked up as Dimitri slipped out.

“One-One-four. Mystery will show you, if that’s fine by you.” Vivi perched on the passenger seat as Dimitri stared at Mystery, and Mystery stared back, his tail wagging. “Unless you—”

“Okay,” Dimitri interrupted, and he began walking off. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dimitri adjusted his arms full of duffle bag, fry carton, card key and walktie-talkie, and followed as the hound led the way. The two walked up on the cement path beside the many dull tan doors of the motel rooms, and Vivi sat where she was until the two rounded the corner and were out of sight.

Lewis slipped up beside Vivi and watched the way she was staring. “I think there’s something on his mind he’s not telling us,” he judged. “It’s hard not to ask though.” He removed the sunglasses and held them beside his arm. In the back, Arthur was being noisy poking around or putting their gear away. Vivi hadn’t looked.

“I’ll do some research before we bed down,” she said. She handed Lewis her overnight bag and climbed over the bench seat. “If I can find something out about mass disappearances in one area, it might give us a clue of what we’re looking into. I’m almost afraid to research it, though.”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Arthur muttered. He leaned forward as he paced to the vans front and hopped seats. The van creaked with his rash movement, and the doors cracked shut as he pulled them closed. “We deal with mysteries, spookies, cults, maybe a low level creature feature – but this is a bad gig. You feel me on this, right? I’m not being irrational.” He flopped his arms over the seat and stared into the back. It was Lewis who met his gaze; Vivi had turned away to dig around in her night bag.

“I never call you irrational,” Lewis grumbled. He crossed his arms, and Arthur could see his brow knit over his bright eyes.

“You think it, don’t you?” Arthur pressed. “Admit it.”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa,” Vivi snapped. She put her arms out between Arthur and Lewis and looked between the two. “Never irrational. Right Lewis?” She looked to the ghost as he tilts back from her hand, and the scowl she gave him.

“Never. Art.” He made a point to look past Vivi and Arthur his attention.

Vivi looked to Arthur and dropped her hands. “Completely rational, and I see what you’re talking about,” she said, and took a large gulp of air. “Dimitri’s a runaway, people are probably looking for him. He doubts that, for some reason – they don’t care about kids that go missing.” She paused and waited, as Arthur opened his mouth as if to say something, but he withdrew and settled to lean more on the bench seats middle headrest. “But you can’t deny that something has him troubled. Art?”

Arthur nods. “It freaked me out, when I realized he was just some kid,” he said. “He’s been here for a few days, keeps moving. I don’t think he would’ve survived the winter.”

Vivi sat down and pulled the laptop onto her lap. “That’s not a kid being stubborn. That’s a kid that’s hit desperation. He’s willing to go home, we’ll take him as far as we can. That’s the most we can offer.”

Arthur watched Lewis move soundlessly to the back of the van and settle himself on the bumper. “You want me to change the radio, Lew?” Lewis’ head jerked up from the jacket collar and Arthur almost expected the skull to take place, but Lewis held it together.

“Yeah, that… it would be good.” Lewis withdrew again, and distracted himself with the scarce car on the distant thoroughfare.

Vivi had just booted up the computer, the chime rang out and the bright luminous of the screen brushed across her sweater. She swung her gaze from Lewis hunched shoulders and met Arthur eyes, an expression of loss projected from her to him. Or distress. Or something – she didn’t remember, and it was painfully obvious to Arthur. The only consolation Arthur could give was a slight motion of his hand, while tugging his lips back into a kind of grimace. Vivi raised her eyebrows and opened her hands out from beside her, a questioning. Arthur motioned his hand, Vivi needed to just let it go for now.

“Damn… cheap internet,” Vivi hissed. She pecks away at the keys, probably harder than necessary. After some searching and clicking, she stood up and approached Lewis’ mopey shade. “Scoot over.” She wriggled down beside him and held the laptop out for him to see. “Look at this. I think you need this cute alpaca vid.” Lewis said nothing, and while Arthur watched the two, there was no visible change in the ghost’s demeanor. Just the sounds of some kind of bleating, probably alpacas, and people talking, probably about alpacas. Then, a sharp shriek:

“Oh no,” Lewis squealed. “They’re too cute!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got to the end of this chapter and Lewis turned all mopey.
> 
> Then I remembered. Oh.... oh, okay. Uh... Vivi, go comfort him. Send Alpacas.


	19. Chapter 19

##### A Parcel of Qualm

The bathroom fan sputtered its insistent tune while it drew out the heavy moisture cling from the recent bombardment of showers that lay siege to the cubicle space. Used towels were piled over the rim of the bathtub and the shower curtain spread out over them, to admit the humid draft that would dry out the plastic surfaces glistening in the harsh light.

Arthur sat on a clear space of the bathrooms small sink counter and worked hastily, trying to untangle his resilient hair before it could dry in a stubborn lump. For some time lately he’d been thinking about a new style, something suave but casual, something to changeup the routine a bit. Vivi would probably tease him mercilessly, but he would be a good sport about it. Maybe he’d like it. He grinned at his reflection and brushed his hair back, flat against his head and checked his profile. Cue eyebrow waggle.

His hair unceremoniously snaps up into its usual spikes. “ _You can’t change nature,_ ” his uncle once said. Arthur frowned up at his scalp, though physics denied him from seeing his hair with his own eyes. He settled on organizing the few stray strands that hung loose and then packed away the remainder of his bathroom essentials – comb, toothbrush, machine oil. He was pulling on his pants when a knock came from the room door.

“I hear ya,” Arthur called. He fixed his trousers and pulled the door open, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw it was Lewis. “Hey,” he stammered, quick to cover up the sharpness that hit his voice. “I’m almost ready.” He stepped away as Lewis, with Dimitri, stepped into the room. “Should I put on some cartoons?”

“We’re not in any kind of rush,” Lewis mentioned, with a slow shake of his head. Though Dimitri went straight for the telly remote on the bedside table and began flipping through the channels. The volume was kept low, and a few of the early noon news shows slipped by flash by flash. “Did you stay up late watching TV?”

Where Dimitri sits on the bed, he shrugs. “I had the TV on for a bit, but I didn’t stay up.” He set a suspicious glare on Lewis.

“Take it easy,” Lewis grinned, and he motioned to Dimitri with his open hands for mellowness. “I’m not accusing you of violating any secret curfew protocol, I was just curious.” The fan ground to a halt when the light in the bathroom snapped out, casting over the room with gloomy shadows. Arthur rummaged around gathering his bag and his vest from the single bed, while Dimitri watched - stared. “We’re stopping on the way out for some things. But… I think I hear a swarm of disgruntled truckers migrating to the last store with real coffee this late in the afternoon.”

“Don’t even joke like that,” Arthur grumbled. He shrugged on his vest, heaved the backpack over one shoulder, and picked up the prosthetic from the sheet folds. “Vamonos! Vamos muchachos.” Dimitri tore his eyes off Arthur’s open sleeve and hurried to the door. 

Lewis was right behind the boy, and managed to catch the panel before it was flung back into his face. “Whoa, hold on. Where’s the fire?” Arthur gave an impatient groan behind them. Something occurs to Lewis, and he pushes the door shut. “Not including last night, when was the last time you had a decent meal?”

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder, up at Lewis, then looked at the light creeping along the doorframe. “Food - food?” he mumbled. “I dunno. It’s hard to panhandle without people getting suspicious.” He stepped outside when Lewis pulled the door open. Arthur made another off key sound, but Dimitri couldn’t place what it meant.

“We want to know a lot about you,” Lewis admitted. “But I get there are some things you don’t want to share, and that’s fine, though anything you can part with will help.” Arthur rolled his eyes at Lewis’ back. Classic Lewis. “No one’s forcing you. Remember that, if you feel overwhelmed. Got it?” At this point Dimitri had stopped at the corner that led around to where the van was parked, and looked up at Lewis. “Bad things happen to kids. Anyone that tells you otherwise, well, I think you already know that story.”

Dimitri looked away and shifted his footing. Arthur was sure this would be it, the kid was going to take off now. But Dimitri didn’t hardly move, save for the toe of his bright new shoe rubbing into the gritty tarmac. “Cool,” was the word, and he said it so faintly Arthur nearly missed it. “I needed… I need to hear that. Yeah.”

Arthur cleared his throat and stepped around Lewis. “And don’t fret about asking US questions of your own,” says the mechanic. “You’ll have plenty, don’t stress it. And ask us a lot about him.” He nodded his head toward Lewis’ way, and Lewis frowned behind his sunglasses. “I sympathize. You won’t be able to help yourself. Ask away.”

“Of course,” Lewis went on, following Arthur. “We’re the masters of getting bad vibes out in the open.”

Arthur nods and adjusts the strap cutting into his bad shoulder. “We sit in a healing circle and eat yogurt, and talk about our feelings.”

A lone yip cuts from the van. Mystery wriggles out between Vivi and the vans wall and trots across the black asphalt. Vivi remained seated in the open passenger door fully focused on the laptop seated on her knees. When Mystery reached the group, Arthur knelt down to catch the dog in a one armed embrace. Dimitri approached the van, watching carefully as Vivi shut down the computer and set it on the floorboard. She smiled at him.

“I thought maybe you guys decided to just walk out to better venues,” she said, teasing. She took Arthur’s bag from his shoulder and slipped it over the seat into the back somewhere. “How’s the new clothing working for you?”

Dimitri looked down at his coat, and bent his legs as he studied the jeans. They were bright blue and had the new clothing scent. “Kind of long,” he murmured. The jeans overshot his heels, and his shoes pulled at his pants. “You didn’t have to.”

“Ah!” Vivi held up a hand to silence further words. “Completely necessary. You got out of a bad situation, and you need a new attire to reflect that.” She turned to Lewis and Arthur as the two hovered by the front grill of the van, a sly grin crept across her face. “Should I dri— ?”

“No,” Lewis and Arthur say simultaneously. They exchange a glance and look over at Dimitri staring at them, then they return their eyes to Vivi. Arthur was about to speak up and perhaps elaborate, but shut his mouth instead and muttered something under his breath. Lewis went around to the driver side of the van.

“How subtle,” Vivi hummed. She crossed her arms and leaned into the passenger seat.

Lewis leaned over but paused before hauling the door shut. “You… can be kind of fast, when you drive,” he said, gently. He carefully hauled the door shut, while Vivi slammed her door. Hard. Wincing, Lewis sank back into the seat a bit – the keywords here, sank into – and his fists tighten over the steering wheel. “Not that I don’t like the fast when we have to get someplace, like, now. I thought… well, y’know what I mean? There aren’t enough seatbelts to go ‘round— Should I just stop talking?”

Vivi chuckled. “Lighten up, I’m messing with you.” She scooted closer to Lewis and gave him a light peck on the cheek. The eyes brighten behind the sunglasses, and Lewis snapped his hands free of the steering wheel to straighten the tussled folds of his jacket collar. “Let’s get moving. We have a day’s drive ahead of us.”

In the back of the van, Arthur’s voice lifted. “—have to clean it separate.”

Lewis fiddled with the zipper of the jacket and then leaned around to check on the three in the darker interior; as per usual Mystery was curled down beside Arthur, and Dimitri sat at the opposite wall staring at the metal arm and the few tools Arthur had out. “Where was this place you wanted coffee?” Lewis broke in.

Arthur twitched and there was a long pause of silence, as if Dimitri had asked the question that came inevitable. Arthur let out a breath. “Well, any place is good,” he mumbled. “I need some time to check the joints, about ten minutes tops.” Mystery raised his head and set it on Arthur’s knee.

“Why don’t you sit up front, Dimitri?” Vivi offered. She took the bottle of 99 and a rag from the cuvee pocket in the passenger side door and climbed over the seat. “So you can wear a seatbelt.”

“But I’m not twelve yet,” Dimitri said, even as he was already walking to the front. The idea of jumping over seats was exciting though. His step-mom always yelled at him when he climbed around in the back of their car.

“Don’t worry,” Vivi said, as she plopped down beside Arthur. “The van doesn’t have airbags. Plus, you look old enough.”

Lewis starts the van up and pulled the drive shift back. “That’s a compliment,” he says, and he leans over to give Dimitri a little nudge with his elbow. Dimitri gives Lewis a curious glance, as the other sits back and adjusts the sunglasses.

“Find a store and diner bonus,” Vivi callls. When Galahad wasn’t on hand for the spare Arthur lacked, Vivi was able to lend her own. She pulled out the little camping lamp and set it beside the prosthetic, as Arthur pried open a side panel with a screwdriver. “We’re gonna need ice and drinks and snacks….”

“And batteries, and, and and, and….” Lewis called off. He was mostly focused on the road. “Wifi?”

“Wifey,” Vivi answered. “All the wifey.”

“With an outlet?” Lewis asked. Mystery barked.

“And one of those coconut drinks,” Arthur added, “with the little umbrella. What do you call those?”

“Pina Coladas?” Vivi asked. She held the arm, as the little bolt or whatever inside gave Arthur all the trouble in the world. “That’s the drink.” 

“That’s the drink,” Lewis echoed. “We can look it up and see if the diner serves those.”

The diner didn’t serve those. Arthur tried asking, though no one put him up to it, and Vivi gave him her trademark, ‘you are not starting this,’ look. The closest he got to Pina Colada was a raspberry tea with a shot of limon. Vivi wound up stealing it from Arthur.

On request, the server had seated them in the corner booth with the circular table. The curtains along one side of the entire store and diner combo remained drawn down, while the welcome warmth of the afternoon sun threatened to bake the still chilled air. The dull spinning of the ceiling fan coaxed a cool breeze, while the heater unit buried somewhere in cinderblock and wood walls, hummed and coughed out warm breaths from its grates. Lewis hummed along with it as Vivi cursed the impossibly slow internet. She began to think the internet wasn’t actually the diners, and perhaps they were pirating another signal.

“So, how did you reach where you are?” Arthur decided to ask. He ran a metal finger along the side of his plastic cup and once in a while took short glimpses of Dimitri. There weren’t too many people dotting the few tables and booths, most of their company came as truckers and the random vacationer.

Dimitri shrugged as he watched Vivi work. She sat beside him and had the laptop angled so he could see the screen and the ‘no connection’ box of the infuriating thing. “I got rides. Some buses,” he said. Finally, the screen permits a webpage of Google maps. He cringed. “People like you.”

Arthur made a sound in his throat. “That’s kind of dangerous.”

“Hmm,” Dimitri hummed, with Lewis for a bit. Lewis was between Arthur and Vivi, but Arthur sat a distance out from Lewis placing him directly across from Dimitri. “I was careful. But I really didn’t want to stay home.” He reached under the table and gave Mystery’s head a scratch. He was surprised they let a dog in the diner, but Dimitri had surmised the trio did this all the time. It was hard to miss Arthur flashing his arm at the server before she seated them. It was like they were breaking the rules. On purpose.

Vivi leaned on the table as she typed into the address box. “You’re not just using us to move along, are you?” she said. “I’ll find out.”

The boy stared at her as he sipped at his Spirit. She was nice, but scary sometimes. “No ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old,” she warned. “Okay. I just need your home town. Are you still in the same state?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Dimitri stares at the screen. He felt a tightening in his gut that rolled up behind his eyes. He didn’t want to go on, make the effort if it meant going. He didn’t have a definite plan, leaving was as far as he got. Questions plagued his mind, the probable ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers frightened him. The pseudo truth was painful. Months had passed, but no one ever came back. Never.

 

“Take your time. You don’t need to answer all of our questions,” Vivi said, her voice softening. “We’re not gonna find much on you if you keep your last name.” She gestures to Dimitri, and he scoots a bit away. “We have your story, but is there anything else you can add to it? Why do you think it’s the government?”

Food came. Arthur ordered another tea with a shot of limon for himself, and this time kept it out of Vivi’s reach. Dimitri ate slowly keeping his eye on the group as they talked, with or without him. Occasionally, Lewis would take food from his plate and slip it under the table. Sometimes Vivi would ask him questions, and she kept the laptop facing him as she typed into the search engine and plowed through the multitude of helpless websites that popped up.

“People don’t know that you can do a lot of offline work by just saving websites and screen caps,” Vivi explained. “Most the travel time I’ll do research.” She tapped into a document and resumed the scroll. “I’ll try and get a theory of what’s happening managed before we reach ground zero.”

“You research ghosts and stuff?” Dimitri asked. The very basic details were skitted over the night before, casual conversation. A lot of it was debunking, false leads.

“Paranormal,” Arthur murmured. He was messing with the armband wrapped around his metal arm. “Not like the stuff you watch on the telly. That stuffs glamorized, reality crud, and-”

“You gonna sit there and bash our profession?” Vivi grumbled. Arthur choked on his straw. “We see a lot of the fabricated stuff. Dullsville central.”

Dimitri paced himself, it had to be obvious. His food got gross and cold long before he was actually done, but none of them said anything or asked him to hurry. This niceness made him tense. He sat with Lewis while the other two left to pay the tab, and pick up supplies from the store side of the diner. While Lewis waited for Dimitri to finish ‘eating,’ he fooled around with the computer. It was tricky to gauge Lewis with the dark sunglasses, but from what Dimitri could discern the other was just biding time.

“Hey,” Dimitri murmured. “What’s an alpaca look like?” He leaned over to see the screen, probably something he shouldn’t do, and saw the images of an old run down home with red carpet. Some kind of castle, or mansion.

Lewis exited the tab and opened up a new page. Dimitri had never seen so many tabs and documents boggled together in the bottom of a computer screen. “It’s like a lama,” said Lewis, smirking. “But a thousand times cuter. I mean, awesome.”

“Can you ride it?” Dimitri asked. Lewis was scrolling through images, a lot of fuzzy lama/camel things, and some plush toys. They kind of reminded him of Lewis with the floof hairstyle perched above their brows. He glanced up at Lewis, then back at the screen. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Eh… not traditionally,” Lewis says, still scrolling. “But you could probably carry one.”

“They look smelly.”

Lewis made a sound. That’s all Dimitri could describe it as, a sort of rasping. “So are dogs.” A sharp bark came from beneath the table, and Lewis glanced under the side. “I meant shaggy dogs.” He handed his last piece of chicken tender to Mystery. “Did you enjoy your brunch?”

“Brunch?” Dimitri began slipping from the seat as Vivi walked over, motioning with her hands toward the exit. People were coming into the store and she was standing waiting, as Arthur weaved his way out through the horde of newcomers. “I never had a brunch before.”

“It’s a breakfast slash lunch,” Lewis explained. He slipped out from the seat easily and took up the laptop. From under the table side emerged Mystery, with the end cord of the laptop in his jaws. He dropped it and Lewis gave the dog a frown before he began wrapping the cord up over his palm. “It’ll hold you until,” Lewis’ voice paused, and Dimitri glanced his way as he shrugged. “…we decide to stop later.”

“When’s later?” Dimitri decided to ask. They encouraged questions, so he would ask.

“Leave that up to the boss, or until when we can’t take each other’s company any longer.” Lewis cracked a grin to Vivi at the door. She smiled at him. “With that said, you might wanna take a break before we start.”

It took a minute for the meaning to come across, and Dimitri blushed as he turned and stalked off. When he was through the bathroom doors at the side of the store, Lewis turned to Vivi.

“He’s doing a little better,” he says. “How many miles we have?”

Vivi bit her lip. “A lot? I don‘t know what his travel endurance is gonna be.” She took Lewis shoulder and shuffled aside as an elderly couple entered through the double doors with a group of ecstatic young children, around Dimitri’s age, chattering with unbridled excitement. She pulled Lewis down more and looked at the shoulders of his jacket. “Oh shit.”

“Bad?”

Vivi shook her head. “The edges are a bit frayed.” She rubbed a bit of the jackets collar between her thumb and forefinger and examined the crusty bits of the crispy leather. “I’m amazed it’s still in one piece. Damnit, I saw coats in your size and thought about you, but it skipped my mind.”

“Later,” Lewis said. “On that thought, maybe you should just hang onto my funds?”

Mystery barked. Dimitri’s coming back. He padded around to stand behind his blue companion, as Vivi’s expression turned contemplative.

“Did you tell Arthur he won the bet?” Lewis was silent. Vivi popped the back of his head, and the fluorescent lights in the ceiling above flashed. “He won the bet, and you’re going to tell him.” She opened the glass door for Dimitri, and he looked between the two as they followed him out.

__

The first to drive was Arthur. He sat in the front seat with Mystery, eating his weight in Doritos and drinking cup after cup of coffee. Dimitri had never seen anyone drink so much coffee. Maybe the arm ran on the stuff, he didn’t know and he hadn’t gotten around to asking. Dimitri mostly kept to himself and read some of the spook and folklore books that Vivi had hanging around; some were interesting and spine chilling, other books too historical and fact orientated. Dimitri didn’t have the patience for endless reading, but there wasn’t much else to do.

“Let us know when you need to stop,” Vivi had said. That was before the battery in the laptop gave out. Check that, the second battery of the laptop.

Hours passed, it got late. Usually it was Arthur or Lewis that drove, and Vivi kept busy researching from books she had on hand. Dimitri napped on and off when he could, and he found he was still tired even after the first day of a good rest. He had a new blanket, new cloths, a new lot of things. All of that, too, made him uneasy, as if he owed these people something. He tried not to panic over this possibility and focused more on gathering back the days of restless night he had, burdened by cold, hunger, and guilt. Later, he might need his strength.

One time he awoke and stared into the dark edge of the van, the sweet smell of the plant they carried and some of the blueberry incense hung over his head. It was nice compared to the old wood and mildew from the old outdated buildings he had taken shelter in. The memory caused him to shudder. Sometimes he woke up and he was in one of the transfer stations for the buses, waiting for the next line to take him further away, to a safe delusion. He could get away with his travel if he pretended he was with an adult, or going someplace. Confidence went a long way. His father taught him that.

His father. Did he even remember him? Would he miss him?

“ - must be really worn out.” That was Vivi’s voice. “I hope we’re doing the right thing.” They must think he was asleep. Dimitri was, he wasn’t sure. He wanted to snooze longer, until the next stop. Sleep was escape. He was still running. They couldn’t understand.

“Probably stress,” Arthur said, a little loud. He was driving. Dimitri could make out the blue hair, a few books and a notepad. “Kids shouldn’t be so worked up.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lewis quipped. He was beside Vivi, flipping the pages of a book. He found one page and handed the book over.

“Should I not be stressed?” Arthur grumbled. It sounded like the two were on the verge of another argument. “I never - I make it - ” Arthur’s voice cut off, and he mumbled something. It didn’t come through a few times, before he finally snapped, “Can someone drive? Vi?”

Vivi was up, shoving books and notepad off her lap. Lewis turned away and tucked his arms tight around his chest. “Easy Art,” Vivi cooed. She leaned over the bench seat, out of Dimitri’s sight. He tried to nod off again, but the harsh gravel and zooming of a car nearly jolted him out of his stupor. “Deep breaths. C‘mon.” There came soft whimpers. The dog was upfront with him.

There was a scuffle, as Vivi and Arthur changed places. The doors didn’t open. Vivi would hop the seat, and Arthur clambered into the back. He stepped carefully by Dimitri and planted himself somewhere on the same wall. Lewis never looked up.

Dimitri might’ve dozed off then. He could hear a conversation going on. It came to him as a weird babble. That odd jumbled argument between the two was ongoing, and Dimitri wondered how long he had been dozing. There came a sharp shriek, and Dimitri snapped his eyes open.

“It’s all right,” a voice was hissing. Dimitri stared across at the bare wall. Lewis had moved sideways and was staring toward the front of the van, one arm up. “Just calm down.” Dimitri thought he must be dreaming. Whatever was happening, it couldn’t be happening. Nothing they said or did ever made any sense.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Arthur choked. He sounded groggy. He fumbled around at the vans wall with heavy, erratic movements that thudded through the vans hollow floor. “If something’s going on, we need to know about— ” He shut his mouth when Dimitri sat up and stared across at him. Utter silence.

“Do I need to pull over?” Vivi asked, voice strained. “There’s a picnic area, two miles. Can you two hang on?”

Lewis looked from Dimitri, as the boy rubbed sleep from his eyes and pushed his hair back, then looked to Arthur. “Calm down,” he rasped. His voice was... wrong. “What’d I say? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Arthur groaned. He pressed himself back against the wall, eyes wide and locked on Lewis. “Nothing. I swear. I – I— Fuck.” He buried his hands in his face. “I don’t think you meant to… Damn. Where‘s my bag?”

“Dimitri,” Lewis said. He Lowered his arm and motioned near Dimitri’s side, where a beaten bag rests beside the backseats. “Can you hand him his bag. Move slow.”

Dimitri knew when a time for questions was, and he knew when to shut up and do what he was told. He grabbed Arthur’s bag and, as if handling brittle china, slipped it across to where Arthur was sitting. He pushed it toward the blond, and Arthur flinched, and Dimitri recoiled.

“Is he okay?” Dimitri nearly yelped. He had to fight to keep his voice low.

“Maybe you should wait on the gum,” Lewis murmured. Arthur was pulling a little tin out. “You’re like this because you drank all that coffee.” Arthur stopped from breaking out one of the little gum pieces and sat still. “That’s better.”

Arthur stuffed the gum case back into his bag and shoved it away. He leaned back into the wall of the van as the momentum eased off, and Dimitri could feel the vehicle begin its reluctant grind to a halt. The first out was Lewis. Dimitri barely blinked, and the taller figure sort of ‘wooshed’ to the back of the van and was gone out the doors. The haunting echoes hadn’t a chance to subside before the passenger doors tore open and Vivi, too, was gone, already out of earshot, but Dimitri knew she was calling for Lewis. Mystery poked his head over the seat and looked at him.

What?

“Confession time.” Dimitri twists back to Arthur. The lanky figure hung near the backdoors but not close enough to be in the fading light. It reminded Dimitri of a broken puppet. Mystery made an audible plop as he hopped into the back and crept towards Arthur. The dog slipped into Arthur’s lap and put his paws around his chest, Arthur hugged him back. “We’re not all… put together.” He shook his head, and pressed his forehead into the soft white fur.

“That’s obvious,” Dimitri muttered. He sounded mad, he shouldn’t sound like that. “Are you… we’re you fighting?”

Arthur laughed. Sort of. “No, we just… it’s hard to explain.”

Dimitri dropped his eyes to the floor and the stiff carpet, and the few books and the notebook with the scorched page. “I know you said I could ask all these questions. But….” He didn’t need to let his voice trail off. Arthur cut in:

“No,” he said, and choked on his next words. It took a moments pause for Arthur to gather himself, and go on. “All you need to know. There was an accident.” He rubbed his fingers through Mystery’s thick mane. “Don’t ask about it.”

There were no noises from outside. Dimitri half expected the other two to be shouting, but he wouldn’t have heard it over the cars blazing by on the nearby highway; from the doorway he could see the grass and the edge of the cement sidewalk. It was daylight savings time, cold, and the sun was setting around four in the evening. They must have been driving all night.

Arthur winced as Dimitri shuffled closer to him, and joined in the ‘leaning on the side of the van’ club. The boy reached a hand over and set it on Mystery’s back. “My brother… went missing,” Dimitri mumbled. 

Arthur took a double take. “Brother?” he asked. And Dimitri nodded. Arthur rubbed at Mystery’s ear as he pondered over the possibilities. “He wasn’t the only one.” He loosened his hold on Mystery, and the dog shuffled back on the carpet to turn and face Dimitri.

“No. I kept count.” Dimitri looped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees. “One morning I woke up and his bed was empty. The hardest part was looking,” he sniffled. “He was gone. And… you know the story.” He took a breath and began the whimpers as the tears came. Cold bed, empty sheets. Waiting. His shoulders shook and Dimitri buried deeper into his bubble of sorrow. “Some went missing off the streets,” he managed, between gasps. "In the woods. He’s gone from his own bed. And what do I do?”

Arthur put one arm around Dimitri’s side, and the boy falls over onto him and cries into his vest. “You didn’t do so bad,” he assures. Dimitri continues to sob, but it doesn’t get worse. “We’re gonna do what we can. We’re here.”

“Why?” Dimitri mumbles, voice soggy and pained. “Why?”

Arthur looks at Mystery, and the dog raises his eyebrows and frowns. Mystery sets a paw on Dimitri’s shoulder and looks to Arthur. “There was this accident,” Arthur began. He put his bad arm around Dimitri’s shoulder and hugged him a little tighter, his metal digits dug into the kids shoulder but Dimitri never noticed. “And we didn’t… recover. I wish things had turned out different. I do. I wish I had been stronger. But I’m no hero, either.”

Through his tears, Dimitri could make out the blurry contours of the gray hand on his shoulder. He swallows his words and buries his face into Arthur’s side. He sobbed until Arthur’s shirt was soaked through, and still he managed to find tears to spare. Mystery stayed beside them, looking from the boy to the blond, and kept Arthur’s face clean.

“Thanks bud,” Arthur mumbled. It was nearly pitch black when Dimitri had finally settled down, cars zoomed by on the highway cutting through the dark shroud huddled over the road with sharp slivers of light. Arthur couldn’t judge if Dimitri had fallen asleep, or if he was too ashamed to show his face just yet. “Just hang in there. You’ll feel better later.” He didn’t know if Dimitri had heard him.

Time later a dark shape moved into the backdoors, the harsh gravel of the roadside scratched under foot. The high beams of a passing car revealed Vivi, and she studied the scene now before her.

“Is he - ?” she began. Arthur tried to shift his feet, his ass was falling asleep.

“Give him a moment,” Arthur murmured, instead. “Are we staying here?”

Vivi shook her head as she climbed into the back. Cars continue to careen by on the highway, noisy, buzzing in a hurry. “A few minutes. Lew’s just taking a quick walk, and we’ll have a snack to hold us to the next town. The plans still drive till dawn.” She looked again to Dimitri, and Arthur could feel her brows knit in contemplation. “Unless you want to stop for the night and stay in a motel, Dimitri.” He didn’t answer or move.

Arthur took it that he must be asleep. “I’m not sure what we can do for him,” he whispered. “If we can, we should go as far as we can manage.” Vivi was staring at him, or she had gathered enough in his voice.

“Dimitri,” she said, and carefully worked to pry him off Arthur’s front. “Wake up a bit. Have some food stuffs.” Mystery walked off and began poking around the cooler box.

“Not hungry,” Dimitri mumbled.

Arthur frowned. “To be frank, I need to take care of some private business.” He waited patiently for Dimitri to relent and lean back. Once released, Arthur slipped out off the vans bumper and took off running.

Mystery returned with a Capri sun and a Cheese Danish in a plastic wrap. Dimitri took these from the dog and stared blearily as the mutt turned tail and padded off. He didn’t want to look at Vivi and see her gentle expression, in the oppressive dark. “Is the dog even a dog?” He sniffled and rubbed his face with the back of his sleeve. Mystery returned with an iced tea and a bag of chips, which Vivi took.

“No. He’s not a dog,” she hummed, and gave Mystery’s head a scratch. “He’s an experience.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mystery always knows how to make things better
> 
> ....
> 
> Wait...


	20. Chapter 20

##### Reoccurring Theme

“It’s a gorgeous day,” Vivi greeted, when Arthur returned. Plumes of thick white mist trailed from the Styrofoam cups carried in either of his hands, and between his fingers he clutched the plastic lids. Both were coffee, something she wasn’t fanatical for but sometimes the taste of it could knock her back on her feet.

Vivi sat on the vans back bumper, computer on her lap with its small universe of tabs and websites opened. She absentmindedly cycled through the windows, passing the time and watching the day reach momentum. Her night had been full of research and data, theories and sudden outbursts of intriguing facts to share with the others; Arthur was spent in the first fifteen minutes but Lewis had kept up with her until fatigue won at last. She was almost convinced she had exhausted what resources were available – legends and rumors ranged from the old like La Llorona, to the sketchy Slender man - the prospects for missing children always distressing, the dire truth of what they sought.

Arthur sat the cups down beside Vivi, then reached into one pocket and pulled out handfuls upon handfuls of sugar and honey packets, along with another package of gum. “How’d you sleep?” he began. He stretched out his fingers over the little pile of packets and took a breath. He could tell Vivi was watching, though she didn’t show it.

“Good. It got cold last night,” she said, with a yawn. “How were you?”

Nearly all of the honey packets went into one coffee cup. Arthur stirred it and handed it to Vivi. “Could’ve been better,” he admitted. “I don’t do well in this weather. Ugh!” He went to the sugar next, tearing the little packets apart and haphazardly dumping the white silt into his cup. “My eyeballs feel like swollen grapes.” For emphasis he rubbed at his eyes with the armband on his metal wrist.

“It‘s cause you‘re so skinny.” Vivi blew on her cup and tried to sip her beverage. She winced when the hot liquid hit her tongue. “You can afford to eat more.”

Arthur shrugged, with his good shoulder, and raised his cup. “I try?” Vivi looked at him. “I have a high metabolism?” 

“Okay-okay.” She smiled. The hot cup in her hands felt good seeping through her palms, and the warm mist spilled over her knuckles. “All that running you do.” She swirled the dark liquid around.

“Don’t blame that. It’s the only way I can stay out of trouble.” Arthur carefully stirred his coffee and raised the cup to his lips -

A shriek sliced across the parking lot, followed by a barrage of barks. Dimitri’s voice hollered out in a panic, but whatever was said couldn’t seep through the thick walls around the doors of the van. Arthur snorted into his cup sending hot liquid splattering over his metal hand.

“Bloody hell, I should’a known better!” he stammered. He passed the cup to his good hand and shook his dripping hand. “It’s hard to clean this!”

Vivi set her cup and the laptop aside and snatched at Arthur’s hand. “You’ll get it in the seams.” She pulled the sleeve of her coat over her palm and soaked up the excess liquid. “Lemme have the cup. Hurry.”

A dark shape flew by, pursued by two smaller forms. Mystery was barking up a storm, racing after Dimitri and Lewis. “He’s gonna get you!” Lewis chimed out, skipping ahead. Dimitri was too busy ducking and dodging Mystery’s erratic charges to see the bright sparks kicked up around Lewis’ feet. “Careful Dimitri, look out!” And Mystery yapped and bounced around the boy.

“Help me Lews’s! Help!” The three charged by the van, Mystery’s hyper yips fading.

“I don’t think I can!” Lewis called back, still skipping, always a step ahead of the two, or at least Dimitri.

Vivi sprint around the vans side. “Lewis! What have I told you about teasing Mystery! I won’t tolerate it!”

“I didn’t start it this time, I swear!” yelled Lewis, as Dimitri ducked around his side. “Whoa, careful! Watch it!”

The three sprinted into the empty lot between the motel and an antique shop, the grounds coated in browning grass and snatches of green weeds struggling under the biting cold. A piece of cement hidden in the grass caught Dimitri’s leg and he went tumbling, on top of Mystery when the dog darted under his fall. The two rolled over and over, as Lewis trots to a halt.

“Help!” Dimitri yelped. “He’s got me, he won’t let me go!” Mystery put his paws across Dimitri’s chest and nipped at the boys hands as he tried to push him off. Finally, Dimitri jostles Mystery off his perch, but the dog refuses to move away and settles to roll over onto his back across Dimitri’s lap. “Save me?”

Arthur steps up beside Vivi and gestures to the group. “Ah, look at our children,” he said, imitating a sharp Irish accent. “Don’t they make ye proud.”

“Mystery! You better settle down! You don’t know your own strength.” Vivi smirked. “Not often he acts like a dog, hmm?” She watched as Arthur flexed his fingers, working out the stickiness that held to his joints. “I’m not wrong to think,” her voice trailed off, and Vivi shook her head. “I’m not sure… what we’re gonna find, but… this has been good for us. For Dimitri. Looking at him, you wouldn’t imagine what he’s hiding from.”

Arthur hummed a sound, and looked past his hand. “I can’t get it off my mind.”

“I know.”

“Going back now, I dunno. It’ll hurt him,” Arthur murmured. “He’s past mourning. That’s all it is.” He remembered leaving the mansion, Vivi’s sorrow. Not reliving, but experiencing it for the first time. In a way that was cruel.

Arthur listened to the happy shrieks. “This is a mistake,” he muttered. “You know that. Maybe it’s not too late, we could – ” Vivi called out, bulldozing through his words.

“Are you three ready?” Vivi called. “I know you’ve got some important business going on there, but the coffee’s getting cold.” Arthur sighed. Across the road, simultaneous groans wound out from the three.

Arthur takes stock of Vivi’s wistful stare on Lewis, as the tall figure hoists Dimitri out from under Mystery and dashes away. Mystery gives chase. “I’m taking a wild guess here, and say that Lewis didn’t realize how much he missed his sisters.”

Vivi stiffened and jerked to Arthur. She mouthed a ‘What?’ and gathered up handfuls of her blue hair. “The obituary didn’t mention… shit, did it mention that? Why wouldn‘t I see— ?” She exhales and drags her hands over her eyes. Arthur waits, grimacing, as Vivi wrestles control over her face. In the meantime, Dimitri is screaming as Mystery snaps at his feet. “He never talks about them.”

Arthur blinked and pulled his fists up in front of his chest. “No, I guess he wouldn’t.” He paused and thought it over, and murmured, mostly to himself, “Some small kindness.”

“I’ll feel better,” Vivi murmured, as she fixed her hairband back in place. “You too. Once we get settled and take a look around.” That was her hope. She did her best to smile as a calamity of barks and giggles crashed towards them. In the lead pranced Mystery, yapping and panting a wispy white trail as Lewis pursued. 

“I think you’re safe now,” Lewis said. Dimitri was hanging from his left arm, well above Mystery’s head. “What’s up?” He lowered his arm when Dimitri let go.

“Watch out for the coffee,” Arthur choked, as he hurried to catch Mystery at the bumper. Dimitri stumbled after them wheezing in pace with the dog. “Think you can endure another hour of hurry up and waiting?”

“Meh,” Dimitri quipped. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

Lewis waited until Dimitri and Arthur climbed into the van, then turned to Vivi and slanted his brow behind the thick tint of the sunglasses. “Is everything okay?” 

Vivi nods. “We were just talking. Mostly about where to stop along the way.” She points out Lewis’ arm, where the sleeve of his jacket was pulled back revealing a portion of his wrist. A small peep escaped Vivi, and she snapped a hand up to her mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look.”

Lewis recoiled slightly and put a hand to his frayed sleeve. “No-no, you’re fine. I’m— Did I upset you?” 

Vivi shook her head behind her hand. “Never.” She squint her eyes, as if she wanted to close them. “How could you ask such a thing?”

There were two possible reactions Lewis had anticipated. One, Vivi would have been all over him with the questions and the ogling, probably the more favored outcome. Or, she would have been repulsed by his thin veil; the latter scenario Lewis doubted but, he didn’t like mirrors. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lewis twittered. But it did matter, it mattered to Vivi. She hadn’t moved. What was it? He tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and let his ethereal suggestion calm, recoil. “Did you…. wanna see?”

At first Vivi wouldn’t answer, she refused to look at Lewis. “Am I allowed? I mean, you don’t mind? Oh… wait - ”

“Relax. Look.” Lewis unbuttoned the jacket sleeve and pulled it back over his arm. He took Vivi’s other hand when she began to raise it to her chin. “I’m telling you,” he said, gently. “It’s okay.” He moved her hand to the underside of his wrist. “See. Just, y’know, me.”

Vivi pressed her lips together as she smiled. She lowered her other hand down and set it over Lewis’ arm. “I wasn’t worried. I know it’s you,” she said. It was funny in a laughable sort of way, that Lewis’ reluctance was based wholly on his assumption she could somehow not accept him. “I didn’t want you to do anything you weren’t ready for. How do I say this?” She gripped his arm and frowned. “I can get ‘a little’ excited when it comes to the paranormal stuff, but you’re not just _a_ ghost. This is different. I don‘t want to force you into situations you‘re not comfortable with. You don’t always let me know when it bothers you, though sometimes I can tell, but still I forget….”

“You‘re perfect, Vi,” Lewis said. He clasped her hands in his and leaned down to kiss her knuckles. “You worry too much. Don’t do that, I—” He stopped and the frown returned to his brow. He studied her carefully. “You’re under a lot of stress, and staying up late hasn’t helped.”

“You figure?” Vivi chuckles. “Research has no end.” She traced the bleached segments over his fingers with her thumb. A low rumble emitted from Lewis.

“That feels nice,” he said. She was about to say something, but Lewis snapped his head up. Vivi spun around.

“Ooh, uh….” Arthur stuttered, head poking out just past the door. “Sorry, um…. You guys ready…?”

“Yes,” Vivi mumbled. “Yeah. He’s right, we should – we should get going.” She released Lewis’ hands and backed away. “We’ll continue… later?”

Lewis caught the direction of Arthur‘s gaze and quickly fixed the sleeve of his jacket. “Yes,” said the ghost. “I mean, later then….that is.” He let his voice sputter off. Vivi was already gone, inside the van. Thumps and bumping roved around, as the passengers organized themselves and their belongings. Lewis went to the driver side door. Voices muttered around; one was hissing, it sounded like Arthur. Then Dimitri’s groan:

“Were they kissing?”

Lewis’ hand slipped through the doors latch. Meanwhile, the brief chatter of excitement flared up within - Myster’s yips along with, ’what have you told him’ and ’I said nothing,’ among other variations of those two phrases and the confusion that ignited. It took a few attempts by Lewis before he was able to grip the handle and get the door open. He began to have doubts once he was situated behind the steering wheel. He waited until Arthur and Vivi’s ‘conversation’ had drawn to an awkward lull.

“Art.” Lewis tried to remove the hitch in his tone, but he lacked the will. “Could you drive for a bit?” He glanced into the back when the others went quiet.

“You mean for the rest of the way?” Arthur said. Lewis scooted over, and Arthur plopped down in the driver seat. He leaned over to set his Styrofoam cup in the holder and checked the other cup slot for the keys. They keys were already in the ignition.

“No,” Lewis said. He looked at his hands as Arthur turned the key. The van roared to life and Arthur toggled the gas pedal, before letting the brooding purr settle into its rhythm. “I don’t feel too… hmm, set. On the driving.” He paused. “Estamos bien?”

Arthur reversed the van, but before leaving the car lot he took the time to fiddle with the radio, cycling through the parched static and high-low of songs and commercial jingles. “What?”

“Look up?” Lewis hissed. Arthur sighed and craned his head up, enough to catch the edge of the ghost in his peripheral. “I’ll be right here. Are you cool with that?”

Arthur flopped back and stared at Lewis. “Y-yeah, I wouldn’t ask—” Arthur took a breath and tightened his fist on the steering wheel. “Whatever you want.” He made a point to lean far over in his seat to see the side mirror as he turned the van, and navigated them from the motels parking lot. By late noon, the amber transport was merged with traffic, traveling on a stretch of road beneath clouds darkening in the distance.

 

After Arthur, Vivi drove, then, it was Arthur again, the two of them alternating between each stop. If traffic wasn’t bad or they weren’t in the cities, Dimitri could sit up front and watch the scenery. There was a big fuss over finding where the seatbelt had gone for the middle seat, until Vivi managed to drag it out from between the seats. The miles flew by. A blink and it was five gone, a short nap and over a fifty more now in the past. 

Open plains and fields of farmland thinned out, cattle, ravaged fields of dirt were soon gone. Trees became numerous and tall, and suddenly the road was surrounded by thick groves of oaks, here and between the large meadow filled with shrubs and creeping vines. It was familiar territory for Dimitri but unwelcomed. He remembered the same landscape when they had moved – tall trees, meadows at the edge of open paths through the woods, enticing the curious explorer; wild groves that adventures could explore for years and never find their way out from; wilderness that could never be tamed by man and his civilization. His father might disagree, but what did his father know?

As the clouds thickened the chill became unbearable, and Dimitri figured couldn’t be much worse in the back. Traffic was getting thick anyway and soon one of the two, Arthur or Lewis, would gently request he relocate himself. He didn’t mind, though he hadn’t let on how much he despised cops at this point. They hadn’t caught onto his hints, anyhow.

Vivi raised her head from Mystery when Dimitri lowered himself from the seat. A bit of gauze was wound around the dogs paw, but upon seeing their new company Mystery gave Vivi’s hair a lick and stepped over to Dimitri. Vivi had warned him the dog liked chicken, and a chicken sandwich was what Dimitri had been nibbling on for the past hour.

“You had your own,” Dimitri muttered. He held his sandwich out of Mystery’s reach as he moved to the vans back.

Mystery sat down and flattened his ears back. True, but it wasn’t yours. The dog raised his bandage paw for inspection.

Vivi sniggered, and returned to the work laid out atop a flattened grocery bag. Dimitri half expected some comment about, how finishing his sandwich would save him the trouble. But none of them ever said such things. Instead, Vivi focused on the shiny piece of rock or crystal she whittled at while she wasn’t driving.

Layers of notebooks and a few open texts lay open around the blue clothed girl, which she glanced at frequently under the pale glow of the camping lamp beside her. A small brown case near her knees was filled with various small tools, needles, knives, some Dimitri didn’t recognize. Vivi’s scarf was tightened around her lower face and she wore a pair of goggles. The plastic bag was filled with dust and chunks of glittery bits of the rock/crystal. Whenever the van hit a bump or rough spot the camping lamp flashed, threatening its impending annoyance. Vivi kept her hands steady throughout this, but nicks were impossible to avoid.

Dimitri watched her work for a bit as he munched his food. He didn’t look at the dog as he nudged Mystery away. “So, what’s it?” he asked, at last. 

Vivi took a dirty buff cloth and rubbed away some of the excess powder from the stones surface. “Don’t get too close, the dust is really bad for you,” she warned. “It’s a kind of totem. For protection.” She took the smaller knife and carved along grooves in the surface. “Some people have animal guides, sometimes it’s a plant that offers prosperity. Or words, words can be very powerful.”

Dimitri nodded as he chewed on his sandwich. “A girl called me a rotten toad once,”  
he said, around a mouthful of chicken and bread. “Made me feel like trash.”

Vivi tries not to laugh. At least he couldn’t see her smirk under the sweater. “Not what I meant, but I think you get the point.” She took a stiff cloth and rubbed it over the stones grooves. “Would you hand over my bag?”

Dimitri took the indicated bag from beside the vans wall and shoved it over. “You really believe this hocus pocus, voodoo stuff?” He poked at one of the cuvees stuffed with wrapped bundles of sage, and rolled rice paper. They had so much stuff, some of it packed away in Tupperware, most of it he’d never seen.

“Unwavering belief isn’t a requirement, but it does help.” Vivi pulled out a container of water and used it to rinse the rock off. The carved sides darken and it glisten under the light of the lamp. She put the water container away, and produced a small wooden box. From the box she pulled forth a few strands of metal, chains. “This is for you.” She ran one of the chains through the small hole in the rocks pointed tip, and blew over its surface as the water dries.

“Um… thanks,” Dimitri murmured. He took the offered stone/crystal, he wasn’t sure. It was flat on one side, and the new carvings on the surfaces were sharp along the deepened grooves. “Are you sure? You spent a long time on this? I’m not supposed to accept stuff from strangers.” Dimitri shut his mouth and stared at Vivi, puzzled by his own words. Vivi had already taken off the goggles, and was collecting the bag of powder with its chunks of rock. She was laboriously careful not to let the contents go everywhere as she rolled up the bag. “You’ve done -”

“Shh,” Vivi hissed, and held up a finger. “This might be the most important thing you ever own.” She shuffled over and took the stone in his hands, and moved his finger to trace along the smoothed edges. “I’ve seen this rune in many books. It offers protection from those that wish to harm. Keep it safe, and it will help keep you safe.” She took the two ends of the chain and connected them behind his head.

Dimitri held the stone at chains length and turned it around. He had his doubts about a piece of rock, but he could appreciate the skill and uniqueness that created it. “Don’t even think about it,” he muttered.

Mystery was inches from where his half eaten sandwich was held low beside Dimitri, and momentarily unguarded. The dog frowned and sat back. You’re not interested in finishing it. He tilts his head and flicked an ear when Vivi cursed under her breath.

The lamp kept honest to its threats and went out. “Stupid short,” Vivi groaned. She pat its side, and the light flashed a few times, but ultimately went out for good in the end. “Batteries.” Mystery had already retrieved the rumpled shopping bag and tiptoed over to Vivi. She paused to gather up the carving tools and stuffed the small brown case back into her bag. “Thank you,” Vivi said, and gave Mystery a scratch behind the ear. “But stop trying to take his food.” Mystery grinned.

“Heads up, we’re getting into the town now,” Lewis called. He spun around in his seat and draped his arm along the bench seats backside. Dimitri wilted a bit. “You want to… sit up front?”

It felt like years – could it have been years? Dimitri stared at what was visible of the cold gray sky through the tilted windshield, and felt ill inside. He pulled the folds of his coat tighter around his sides and lowered his head from Lewis’ gaze. “I don’t think so,” he answered. “It’s nothing new.” That day had been a dreary, gray sky too, rain pouring as he ran, like in some cliché movie.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Lewis hummed, gesturing with his palm. Not for the first time, Dimitri found himself unable to look away from the gloved hand. Something was _off_ about it, but he couldn’t place what.

Vivi finished cleaning up, and shoved the little camping lamp aside. She had half a mind to kick it. “Where are we exactly?” she prompted, as she crept up on the bench seat.

“A main road,” Arthur mumbled, through his gum. He blew a small bubble and let it pop. “If I know roads, it cuts right through. Traffics heavy.” He eased on the brake when a car decided to streak across the lane in front of them. “Stupid ass— ”

“Language,” Lewis rattled.

High in the sky the clouds had turned dark, ashy. The hour wasn’t late but the winter months had come fast and the temperature was on a steady decline. The numerous roads that crisscrossed over the main highway were surrounded by brown patches of yards, and trees gone bare. The town was in the gulley of the valley with larger forests and meadows lurking in the distance, bleeding together in gray woodlands and snippets of small neighborhoods.

“Is the heater even on?” Vivi asked, voice misting.

Arthur leaned over and tugged at the air vents. “Yeah,” he said, doubt in his voice. “I think the weather report mentioned snow, or sleet. You think the backs cold, try sitting between these windows.” For emphasis he shuddered and raised his flesh hand to his face and blew on his knuckles.

Dimitri gave Mystery the rest of his sandwich and knelt near Vivi, far enough below the backseat that he couldn’t glance up to see out the windows. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m wondering about that,” Vivi spoke, voice thoughtful. She adjusts her glasses, and looked down at Dimitri. “Do you want us to drop you off at your house? You can get a good nights rest in your own bed, check in with your parents?” It wasn’t idea to send Dimitri off on his own, and take a chance his parents renewing a frantic search for his ‘abductors,’ or people tying the van in with his reappearance. She missed the short glance Lewis sent her way.

Dimitri shook his head. Mystery curled up beside him, and the boy strokes the dog’s fluffy mane. “I’m not ready for that,” he whispered. “I don’t care if I have to sleep on a bench in some park, I -”

“It’s fine,” Vivi assured. “Let’s find a room for Dimitri tonight, and pick up a map of the town.” Dimitri nods slowly. “I have a motel in mind, but we should stop for directions. The laptop cra— bugged out before I could write up a map.”

The van needed gas anyway. While they were stopped Arthur fueled up and Vivi went into the store for directions, and came back with the map. Traffic began spilling off the main road at a steady rate, provoking Arthur to relocate the van to the other side of the quick marts parking lot, and out of sight.

“Another walk?” Vivi asked, as she flattened out the map over the dashboard. She pressed her chin down onto the puffy scarf as she scanned over the lines on the map, a pen in hand.

Arthur was returning with the empty ice box, struggling to fling out the last droplets of water as he moved by the vans open passenger door. “I’m not sure, he didn’t say anything,” called the mechanic. His voice resumed when the back doors creaked open, and Arthur slid in the cooler box. “You know how he does it. I blink and he’s gone. Why do we keep drinks in here? We could store them in the floor compartments.”

The leather jacket was resting on the passenger seat, beside Vivi. She glanced over at the coat, pen dangling from her lips as she mused. The martial of the elbows was getting cracked and stretched, the sleeves and coat edges had become frayed and crispy; the black pieces crumbled between her fingers as she touched it. She held the loose sleeve between the wrist and elbow, and let it drape over her fingers. As far as she knew, it was the only article of ‘clothing’ that Lewis owned.

“You know I like Dimitri,” Arthur said, as he stepped up behind Vivi. “He’s a good kid, and I really want to help, but we’re walking a precarious line.” He put his hands around the headrest and motioned the small map Vivi had pinned over the dashboard. “Now we’re in his hometown, someone is bound to recognize him.”

“I’ve thought it over,” Vivi said. “That’s why we’re leaving him at the motel while we search around. We need to talk to some people, get more information on the kids that’ve gone missing.” She chewed on the pens tip and pondered. There was the story Dimitri gave, and then there were the dangers of seeking answers of their own. Arthur wasn’t wrong in his concerns.

“Someone will see him,” Arthur insisted. “We should find out where he lives and leave him with his folks. It can’t be that hard, there has to be a poster somewhere.”

“We’re not doing that,” Vivi hissed. She glanced back at Arthur with the edge of her eye. “He doesn’t feel safe, and I don’t blame him.”

“I know, honest I do,” Arthur said, and sighed. He rubbed the back of his head, and winced at his own frigid fingers on his skin. “He’s practically lost his kid brother, and he survived by not relying a whole lot on people.” Vivi turned her head more to look at Arthur. “And FYI, he’s started to notice things.”

Vivi resumes scrutinizing the map and tries to focus on the crisscrossing roads, the center square, the names of streets and sub districts. “He hasn’t talked to you?”

“Who? Um,” Arthur paused, and leaned over to look out the open door. “I told him to. Lew took it the wrong way, as usual.” That last bit he muttered to himself. “It worries me he doesn’t, he keeps it to himself.” He watched Vivi as she absorbed herself in the map and gnawed on the pens end. “I can’t say anything, because what if it’s all in my head?” He flung his arms up and snapped them back onto the bench seat.

“Have a little faith, Artie,” she murmured, and circled a spot on the map. “Dimitri’s personal feelings seem stronger than his instincts.”

“That’s the whole point.” Arthur pressed his chin onto the headrest and dug his fingers into his scalp, one set colder than ice on his skin. “Ugh! I don’t care what he thinks, it’s obvious he doesn’t want to believe the stuff we do. But if he gets an idea—” 

A sharp pop spat from the radio, followed by soft tunes and garbled static. The vans ceiling light flashed, and Vivi shivered visibly from the sudden chill that crept through her coat. Arthur let out a shrill yowl as he staggered backwards and tumbled around over the floorboard in the back.

“Take it easy,” Lewis chides, voice odd and distorted.

“Why do you do that?” Arthur yelped, breathless. “Always! Always, right next to me.” He cringed back when Lewis leaned towards him, voice rasping through his jaw.

“It’s not like I can do it out there, with people watching.”

Vivi spun around and folded her arms over the seat. “Art does have a point,” she hummed. Arthur’s face turned white, and he ducked down behind Lewis as if looking for something, maybe the ice chest.

“Is that the map?” Lewis’ voice crackled. Vivi pivoted and scooted over, as the ghost slid through the passenger side of the seat. He pulled up the jacket and sort of melted - pulled it on around himself. He paused while zipping up the front, and lay a tender hand over the locket. A moment later he noted Vivi watching him, and pulled his hands back to entwined his fingers together. He directed his index fingers, gun like, toward the map. “You’re making plans.”

Vivi nods. “Were you scouting?” She marked up a line of road over the map.

“I thought about it,” Lewis hummed, his voice coming back more. “But decided better. I’ll wait till tonight, when we know where we’re going.” Vivi smirked. Lewis was still skull faced, but he was moving on to fix that. He turned the rear view mirror towards him and gripped the thin slice of reflection. He glimpsed back at Arthur, once the other had ceased fumbling around. “And no. He won’t find out.” He pulled the sunglasses from the breast pocket of his jacket and fiddled with the handles.

Arthur moved closer to Vivi and set his hands, carefully, over the headrest above her. “It’s not really a life choice, now is it?” The same moment that sentence left his lips, Arthur recoiled. Vivi glance over at Lewis and caught the vivid stark white of his skull through his face, still fresh from the illusion. Arthur withdrew his arms. “Sorry, I’m sorry….” he burbled.

Lewis set a hand over his face and looked aside. “It doesn’t bother me. Seriously, don’t worry about it.” His shape seemed to retract within the coat, or deflate. “Calm down Art, that’s not helping.” Arthur was silent. “It’s getting colder, isn’t it? Don’t you have a coat?” Arthur looked up when Lewis turned to him.

Vivi heaved a breath. These two. “He doesn’t like to wear long sleeves, ‘cause the lint gets into the joints,” she answers. Arthur made a silent motion to rebuke the comment, but Vivi beat him to it. “I dunno why you act like it’s some kind of big secrete! I get it, sleeves make your arm high maintenance.”

“It’s not like that,” Arthur blurted. He glanced at Lewis, who was staring at his artificial limb like it was the first time he’d seen it. “The friction and the static, it—” He snapped his mouth shut when Mystery scraped over the back bumper into the van, not far behind him was Dimitri. Arthur wrenched around at the sudden entrance of the two. “We were waiting for you!”

Lewis fumbled to get his sunglasses on— dropped them, and ducked down to retrieve them off the floorboard. Vivi sighed through her fingers and just gazed up through the windshield, at the darkening sky. “No doubt about it. I place all my confidence in you both.”

__

A room was rented for Dimitri and he was dropped off with his all worldly possessions, and one Mystery, to keep company and watch. While he was safe and warm, the Mystery Skulls began scouring the small town for clues or guidance to the children’s disappearances. Vivi had one map with the areas marked where the children were seen last, but aside from that not much else. Thus far only Dimitri’s account of what children, some from his own school, had gone missing but not those from the general area of the town.

It was while they were streaking along one of the thoroughfares that Vivi came up with her next idea. “I want to find out if the kids had anything in common, that might’ve led to their abduction.”

“Geez, Vi,” Arthur grumbled. The lights from high streetlamps flash over the two in obnoxious patterns. “You sound like some kind of PI detective.” Vivi didn’t answer, she was focused on the map and the notebook opened up on her lap.

“We are detectives,” Lewis replied. “And professionals.” He was trying to organize the back of the van, a lost cause as far as he was concerned but it helped pass the time.

“Do you wanna drive?” Arthur slipped down in his seat more, anticipating another one of Lewis’ weird scratchy hisses.

A toneless, “No.” was the answer.

An hour later, the Hall of Records was only mere minutes away from closing. The janitor had already made her pass through the glistening halls of polished stone, pristine painted crème walls, and blazing fluorescent lights. The receptionist at the entrance was logging out of his desk computer and packing up his shoulder bag with books and folders. Outside, the sky was already pitch black and the few white and yellow lights barely glimmered through the wintery haze as flakes began to fall. Next pay check he would order one of those thermal coats, the one with the warming pad and the cup holder. All his colleagues had at least one.

The slow tapping of footfalls clicked through the quiet hall, and the receptionist, Dillan, was certain he was not alone. Odd, the front doors should have been latched by the janitor when she began.

“I have a delivery.” Dillan jumped at the voice, and the speaker tensed. “Sorry. Hey, can you sign for it?”

Dillan stared out of his glassed in office at the figure. The person was not very tall and their brown hat hid most the face, but for a goatee that had to be in violation of some sort of dress code. This seemed highly suspicious. “Yes?”

The Delivery man blew a bubble with the gum he chewed and popped it, the snap echoed across the empty corridor that the two alone shared. The Delivery man resumed chewing, and held out a clipboard with a small box perched atop, a crisp address label was stretched across the box. The Delivery man pulls his hat up a bit to look Dillan in the eye. “I’m kind of in a pinch, running late. Are you gonna sign, or not?” He wore white warming sleeves that clashed with his brown shirt and pants, and black gloves.

“Who’s it for?” Dillan inquired. He had already slid the little glass door of his office window open and accepted the clipboard with box through. He scanned over the page clipped down, everything seemed in order. He signed his name.

“Dunno. I don’t tamper with the mail. And initial.” The delivery man indicated a box on the paper with his finger. “Groovy. You have a safe evening, and bundle up.” The man tipped his hat and, with clipboard under arm, and walked right on out.

Dillan watched him leave, then looked at the little box. It had the Hall of Records address, and was labeled Archives. He gave the box a shake and listened to its contents thump inside. It might’ve been more labeling, but it didn’t feel like a box full of labels nor did it look like the boxes for labeling. It had to be something else.

A chill crept up his spine. It was getting late, and he was starving. He locked the office window, but made sure it was secure before he turned away. He took up the small parcel, swung his coat from his chair and slipped it over his shoulders, and stepped out of his office.

Archives were located in the basement levels, and could be reached under one of the large staircases that led to the upper floors. Through the town was too small to afford renovations for the lower, unused levels, the government had seen it fit to update the Archives with a serial database. The computer database was in its own alcove off to the side, guarded by a thick fence bolted into the low ceiling. The rows and shelves of hard copy information stretched beyond into the depths of the basements thick shadows, protected only by a sprinkler system, security cameras, and more tall thick fencing.

Even in mid-winter the corridors of the interior ‘cave’ were warmed by the tireless diligence of the computer network, but that creeping chill seemed to soak into Dillan’s bones no matter where he went. He sprint along the fence to the other side of the room, like a child racing from the hungry beast dwelling in the basement. It was so childish, but he was reminded keenly of his grandpas old home, and that creepy cellar where they had to do laundry in the summer. He’d have spent more time down there since it was the most tolerable place in the entire house temperature wise, but it was so creepy!

Dillan dashed the last yard to the desk with other mail order boxes of supplies, some still unopened and perhaps forgotten. He stuffed the small box among the others and high tailed it out of there. Lucky no one was there to see him scramble up the steps.

The light clicked out and the box remained among its companions, patient, lingering beneath the faint glimmer of the blinking lights of the surveillance cameras above. Throughout the room raised a steady hum from the computer, miniscule fans whirring to gush icy air through broiling circuit boards. The room itself had its own refrigeration unit, separate from the building above.

One by one surveillance cameras fail, beady lights hovering in the ceiling blimp out one by one. The room becomes impossibly dark, but for a softly burning flame drifting down from the ceiling. It alights on the cement floor near the desk of stacked boxes, and ignites into a vibrant burst of flames. The fire subsides as it drinks in the surrounding shadows, the inky shape solidifies into a fine suit, bleached ribs, and a skull topped by a buoyant pompadour.

Embers linger on his suit, and Lewis dusts them off as he leans forward and takes up the small box. He only need a bit of focus, a mild taint irritation to conjure a sharp claw to cut through the plastic tape. Inside the box is a camera and a walkie-talkie. “Come in Bluebird, this is Dapper Ghost, over.” He turns and walks along the corridor scanning through the visible serial codes labeled along the tall metal shelves. There are so many rows, stacked up to the low ceiling and only a few ladders that he can make out. He grimaces and raises the communicator up to his jaw. “Do you read me?”

“I thought we weren’t doing codenames.” A pause. “Over.”

“Humor me,” he said, and took stock of the imposing fence placed before him.

Passing through fences was a simple matter, but not when one forgets they are carrying two solid objects that must be carefully slipped through small openings in the fence. All the more frustrating when one is trying to become partially insubstantial and not drop these devices onto the cement floor.

Lewis gave up. He crouched down and just shoved the camera and walkie-talker through openings in the fence. The entire time Vivi was asking questions and began to get worried when he refused to answer. “Lewis? What’s going on? You okay?”

He was huffing flames before he managed to calm down. “That is the million dollar question.” The communicator gave a sharp screech in response. Calm. Calm-calm-calm. Internally, he was thankful Vivi had not been present to see that. She hadn’t stopped teasing him about that other matter.

Lewis went over the shelves present, some stuffed with files and papers of all sizes, some spaces in between stacked high with plain brown boxes crushed under the weight. “Any idea what I should be looking for? Over.” He ran a finger along the labels tacked down by tape. Numbers and a few letters.

“Some names,” Vivi answered. The van was parked across the road from the Hall of Record. She sat bundled up in the driver side, her notebook open with the list of children names that matched up with Dimitri’s information. Light flakes descended beneath the edges of the windshield wipers, reflecting yellows through the patterns of white. In the vans back Arthur fumbled around, redressing into his usual attire with the little camping lamp stationed nearby to help him not get lost in his shirt. “We’ll go in alphabetical order. Over.” She turns to Arthur when he slips down in the seat beside her, and hugged him. “You were great!”

“You know this is a federal offense,” Arthur grumbled, as he flopped his arms down. “Impersonating a mail carrier, trespassing on government property. These gloves and those sleeves!” He tore a black glove off and tossed it into the back.

“It was your idea,” Vivi said, smirking. She pulled the glove off his good hand when his attempts had failed.

“I didn’t think you nuts would take me seriously!” Arthur bundled his arms around his sides and sulked. “And it’s cold.”

“You should have left the sleeves on, then.” She raised the communicator to her scarf top and called back. “Dapper Ghost, you read? Over.” There came silence. “Dapper?” Arthur peered at her and edged forward on his seat.

“Read you,” the voice wasn’t a voice, it was garbled in some places, hard to comprehend. But Vivi and Arthur spent years decoding EVPs, and Lewis made the effort to project a voice through as clearly as he could manage without lungs. Some of the next sentence was choppy, but his voice ended with a, “—got idea.”

“Don’t do anything risky,” Arthur warns. “Like, blow up,” he mutters, and hoped Lewis couldn’t hear that. “At least he can’t leave fingerprints.”

“Art, please,” Vivi whispers. She returns her attention to the walkie-talkie. “What you got, Dapper?”

The computerized database is on, but that wasn’t the problem. It required a password to log in, and three wrong passwords would lock the entire system. “The King wouldn’t by any chance know some possible passwords for a government database?” Lewis sputtered. “Over.”

A long pause followed, then a, “Nope.” Arthur’s voice prattled on. “Maybe forget about that, and go to work the old fashion way?”

“Well,” Lewis said. He set the camera and the walkie-talkie aside on the polished wood of the desk, then placed his hands on the flat screen. The screen sputtered on bright, glittering over his suit and bones with the logo for the Archives Database. Lewis jerked his hands back when the screen skipped, static pulsed through with a brief image before the normal display reappeared. He plucked up the communicator and replied, “I’m gonna try something, Bluebird. If you lose contact with me, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

Vivi’s voice screeched through. “Lewis, wait! What’re you saying—”

“Trust me,” he said back. He wasn’t sure if Vivi heard or not while she was trying to get through. Rather leave the communicator to chatter on, he took the computer mouse from the desk and wrapped the cord tightly about the speaker toggle, and set aside the two items. He steadied his ethereal projection and pressed his hands onto the screen. It sputtered and flashed as before, but this time he had anticipated it.

Flashlights were simple, on - off. Yes or no. Lamps were the same, lightbulbs, like… blinking. He could make a mirror show what he wanted others to see, and he could project his image into the rhythmic strobe flashes of a camera if he focused the right way. But it took energy to project.

Wires, circuits, electrical current. Lewis let it absorb him, download his spectral manifestation. The computer highway was a jumble of light and noise, stimuli trying to inform him all at once what business the machine had; code, images, stabbing bits of failed syntax clambering through and over without ebbing against his invading presence. All of it stalled for a moment, grinding in the most literal sense over itself until the programs loosened and resumed the hectic flight. What passed for Lewis amalgamated consciousness withered within a vague sense of placement. Static ripped through him and a rising sensation of heat enveloped his ethereal self, but it wasn’t his fire. _How do you drive this thing?_ Was his last coherent thought before white tore out of him, and a deafening shriek filled his being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you okay?


	21. Chapter 21

##### What Matters Most

There was never anything good on the motel channels. They had HBO, if you could decode static; Animal Channel (Mystery snorted in disgust?); shopping networks and cheap crap; news, news, and yes, more news stations – he didn’t want to watch the news.

 

He left the channel on the Infomercials. The lady in her finely manicured nails was showing off the stupid floor cleaner and mop, with whatever ugly green lacy head they were trying to push off on people like his step-mom. It was background sound, he absorbed the vibrations but not the words, not the message. He could’ve made it out to be something metaphorical, the mop brush and the techniques to utilize it by, all presented by a ditzy red head with too bright red lipstick. Like his old mom, so straight and narrow and always aimed in the wrong direction, getting mad at the wrong people; only good when she listened, but she never listened enough.

 

He looked over at the clock for what must have been the eightieth time in two minutes; he was getting restless and hungry.

 

“Where are they?” Dimitri asked aloud. The dog near the pillows on the bed raised his head and looked at him. After a moment, Mystery put his head back down between his paws and gave a long dog sigh. “You miss them too?” Mystery twitched one ear in response and flattened them back. After a while, Mystery gave his bandaged paw some attention, pulling the loose bandage back over the rich chocolaty fur of his toes. Dimitri lay down on the bed and reached out to the dogs neck, and that seemed to ease the mutt. “I know they wouldn’t leave without you,” he said.

 

Mystery closed his eyes and relaxed for a bit longer.

 

Two hours later, Dimitri was hurriedly shutting the motels door behind him. He checked to make sure he had the card key in his pocket, and nudged Mystery away with his leg. Mystery had followed him out, but the dogs sole purpose seemed to be to get in his way. “C’mon, I just wanna take a look around. It’ll be all right.” Truth was, Dimitri was worried. Despite Mystery’s company, he was afraid the Mystery Skulls had left.

 

Like always, when they dropped him off the day before they left him with a walkie-talkie in case he needed to get in touch with them. The batteries were dead, and that only fueled his paranoia that maybe they knew or sabotaged the communicator on purpose. Before they left he was assured they were only going to run a few ‘errands,’ and not be long about it. By errands, Dimitri presumed they were going to snoop around the town. That was fine by him, he didn’t want to be a part of that. 

 

Well, now it was late-late in the afternoon, the time difficult to discern exactly even if you were from this region. The sky was bright but the clouds remained thick and gray, the air had a brisk glow within the air. His breath misted and hung around his flushed cheeks as he exhaled. The thin layer of frost from the night before remained preserved in thin patches along the sidewalk beside the rooms, and the road had greasy gray streaks from earlier traffic.

 

Mystery followed Dimitri, tugging at his calf and nipping at his ankles. It was obnoxious, and a few times the dogs sharp snipped at his skin.

 

“Cut it out Mystery!” Dimitri hissed, and stamped his foot. Mystery stepped back and pulled his head high, the expression behind his spectacles was quizzical and annoyed? “I mean it. A few seconds, then back to the room.” Of course, Dimitri was lying. If Mystery Skulls did take off, then he was gone too. Where he would go was a good question, but he’d figure it out soon enough.

 

Mystery was dodging around his legs, trying to cut him off as he moved out of the sheltered corridor that separated the two sides of the motel. A small patch of ice had formed from a puddle of water that refroze in the shadows, and salt was scattered around in a thin layer. Mystery separated from Dimitri to give the mess a sniff, and kept trotting beyond the corner.

 

A sudden truck swooped by through the parking lot, startling Dimitri. He fell to his knees grabbing Mystery and tugged him close in case the dog decided to lunge out. That was all he needed, to get their dog run over by some jerk head. When the truck was long gone, out on the highway with the other airheads, Dimitri released Mystery and moved to his feet. Mystery was still insistent to slow him down, but Dimitri was steadfast and determined to make rounds of the area.

 

He found the van parked at the back of the motel, where a tall row of trees grew on the edge of some wild lot full of weeds and rubbish. Frost dusted along the sides of the gray bark of the trees branches and the side of the trunks, a crystalline white glittered in sparse coat over the dry grass. It was kind of fitting, he thought. He realized he was smiling at the van, and attributed it to his relief that the group had not abandoned him and the dog. What would he do with a dog anyway? He couldn’t keep Mystery.

 

An eerie stillness hung over the van as he moved closer. Mystery was religious now in his efforts to haul Dimitri away from the inert and silent beast of a vehicle, but Dimitri was more persistent. He did fear though that the dogs rough play would rip his jeans.

 

“I swear, Mystery,” he snarled at the dog, and pushed him away. Mystery took a few steps sideways, aware of Dimitri’s agitation. “Aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want food? Food, Mystery. Food?” The dog just stares at him. It was kind of creepy. Sighing, Dimitri returned to his scrutiny of the van. He couldn’t place that sensation. The vehicle, with its big ugly scrap on its sides, the logo, the odd skull.

 

That old creepy house at the end of that street. The one he and his friends (used to) dare each other to sneak into. The home sat abandoned for years, since the beginning of time. The lawn overgrown, creatures thrived in the tall grass and beneath the broken, warped steps that clung to the porch, shattered windows boarded up. They’d go there at night and stare at the front, and swear they could hear voices from inside, people shrieking, chainsaw murders perpetually conducted behind the faded wood walls. All stories of course. They’d dare each other to go up to the porch and touch the steps. Sometimes, one of them was bold enough to dash up to the door and slap it, then race back to the others out of breath and laughing; congratulations were had over the brief spark of insanity. None of them ever spent more than thirty seconds in the shadow of that home, not even in broad daylight. The place was creepy. 

 

He got the same vibe from the van.

 

Suddenly Dimitri was frightened to approach it. What if… what if they were dead? What if during the night, someone had happened upon them and brutally murdered them all, blood everywhere, body parts… No. Don’t think like that! That’s morbid. They didn’t deserve that.

 

He swallowed and moved closer to the imposing vehicle. The air seemed much colder in the shadows of the tall woods; icy, sharp, a physical veil tightening over his throat. He took a breath and coughed at the harsh bite. “Hey,” he said, and knocked on the back door, timidly. He knocks echoed in a dreary, hollow way through the metal. “Hello? You guys all right in there?”

 

Silence. Impenetrable, terrible, cruel silence.

 

“Guys?” He jerked back when a loud creak came from within, and a door was flung open. His blood ran cold, and he took a step back.

 

“Dim’tri?” Vivi said, through a yawn. She fumbled to put her glasses on as she slipped out to sit on the vans bumper. For the icy weather her attire had been adjusted appropriately, her skirt now draped over dark blue puffy pants. That couldn’t have been the only difference, but Vivi liked the cold. “What’re doin’ up?” Before he has the chance to speak, Vivi’s face contorts and she springs off the bumper and slams the door shut behind her. “What’re you doing here?” she asked again, her voice edged with alarm.

 

“Listen, I’m sorry,” he began. “It was getting late, and I was getting hungry. I mean worried…. Okay, I was hungry, really.”

 

Vivi brought a hand up to her face and rubbed at her eyes. “I’m so sorry. What time is it?”

 

“Late?” Dimitri perks when he hears a noisy snore. “S’that Lewis?”

 

Vivi shook her head, and something in her expression felt pained. Dimitri could feel it, and it unsettled him. “Maybe you should head back to your room,” she said. “It’s cold and damp and… we’ll pick you up some food. What d’you feel like eating?”

 

Dimitri watched as Mystery pads by the blue clad girl and sniffed around the sides of the van, the bumper. “A big burger sounds good, and fries and…. We’re you out all night? You look awful.”

 

“Thank you,” Vivi said, with a smile. “We found some new data we’re going to check on, it shouldn’t take long.” She turned and examined over the back door a bit, shook her head, then climbed onto the back bumper. “Arthur. Art!” A horse yelp came from the roof of the van, and Dimitri winced when a loud thud came.

 

“Viv-vi! You gave me a heart attack!” Arthur’s voice cut off, and Dimitri could hear Vivi mutter something to him. After the small discussion, Vivi slipped off the back from the bumper and walked around the side of the van. “Morn’,” Arthur said, as he scooted forward and faced the parking area. He dragged folds of blankets and a sleeping bag after him, all color coordinated. Arthur stretched as he slipped his vest on over his arms. “You’re up early.”

 

“It’s like, really late,” Dimitri called up. He tightened his arms around his sides and shivered. Arthur just stared at him, probably not all there yet. “You feeling okay?”

 

Arthur put his hands to the back of his neck. “Slept like crap.” He lowered himself down onto the bumper, and spun around in order to roll up the bedding. “Are you sure its late?”

 

Dimitri grumbled to himself as he stepped up behind Arthur. “Yes! How late were you out? Did you get caught up in the blackout?” At the last inquiry, Arthur locks up and he drops sideways off the bumper. Mystery was just walking around the vans side, when Arthur fell on top of the oblivious hound. Dimitri threw his hands up and caught his hair in handfuls. “Vi! Art just killed Mystery!” He had never seen Vivi move so fast before.

 

The sleeping bag and blankets had just fallen off the back, onto the blonde and dog, as Vivi rushed over. “Geez, they’re okay,” Vivi mumbled. “Anything broken, Art?” 

 

Mystery yipped.

 

“Ditto,” Arthur groaned. Vivi pulled the bright blue blanket off his face. “I’ll survive.” As Arthur pulled himself up, Vivi bundled up the remainder of the blankets and stepped away, but hesitated from returning to the open passenger side of the van. “We had a very stressful night, lil dude. But we did get some new facts. Did you get a chance to tell him, Vi?” She shook her head. Arthur coughed, and helped Mystery up onto his four legs. “Did you manage to stay warm?”

 

Dimitri tilts his head. “It wasn’t too bad. What about you? You were sleeping on the roof.” When Arthur didn’t immediately answer, Dimitri glanced around. Mystery had followed Vivi to take the bedding to the open door, he saw no one else aside from some families unloading baggage for the evening stay.

 

“Maybe you’re ready to go home,” Arthur suggested. He flexed his metal arm, clenching his fingers and winced at the small whine of the gears within. “Heh. Maybe your father would let us—”

 

“Yeah.” Arthur stuttered, and jerked his arms down to Dimitri’s curt affirmation. The boy nodded and looked aside. “I think… it feels like I should go home,” he murmured.

 

“Are you….” Arthur shook his head. “Right, um…. He’s ready to go home?” he said, once Vivi returned. She didn’t smile or give an enthusiastic hoot, her lips only curled up at their corners and she turned to Dimitri. But her smile faltered.

 

“You’re positive?” Vivi asked. 

 

Dimitri nodded. “I don’t know if I’m ready, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I have to eventually, right?”

 

“You‘re right,” Vivi agreed. “But it’s up to you, if you are ready.” Dimitri keeps his eyes on hers as he nods. “Okay.” Vivi stepped up to Dimitri and spun him around by his shoulder. “We’ll go get your things together. Uh, Art. Could you and Mystery get the van in order?” She makes a gesture with her arm, and slants her mouth.

 

Arthur, purses his lips together and motions frantically with his arms. Near his feet sat Mystery, eyeing the random exchange as he usually did. The last of Vivi’s hand movements were sharp and quick, then she spun around and jogged with Dimitri around the side of the motels nearest wall. Arthur’s breath misted in a thick puff as he moaned to himself.

 

“I feel like the rest of this days gonna be a total bust,” Arthur mumbled. “I hate the winter.” To that Mystery only huffed. The dog turned tail and trotted back to the open door of the van.

 

It wasn’t long before Vivi and Dimitri returned, Dimitri carrying his bag and Vivi his escort. The bright hood of the van was up, and the man from the office was at the curb with jumper cords dangling over the grill, leading out to the spare battery of the road. Arthur sat in the vans cab toggling the gas pedal, until the van roared to undisputed life. Mist fumed from the back exhaust pipe and the chassis rattled, falling into the tender purr once the gears were turning.

 

“Got it,” Arthur called out of the open window. He left the van in park and rounded the front of the vehicles trembling grill. “Thanks. Do I owe you anything?”

 

“No,” the office manager said, as he packed up the stiff cables. “Just drive safe.” He shook hands with Arthur and gave Vivi with Dimitr a cheerful wave, then tottered off with the weighted car battery.

 

While Arthur busied himself with the final diagnostics – checking the clamps on the vans battery, noted the lack of corrosion and the sturdiness of the cables – Dimitri shoved his bag into the van with Mystery and climbed onto the front seat. Dimitri spun in place on the middle seat to check the vans interior. “I hope that’s the only jump we need today,” Arthur said. Satisfied by the inspection, the mechanic slammed the hood down. Vivi stood by, wiping her glasses with her scarf end. “I don’t want to spend money on two new batteries.” He raised his thick eyebrows and cringed. Just the sentence itself was painful.

 

Vivi replaced her glasses and watched Dimitri through the open door. The boy flopped back into the middle seat and hugged the duffle bag to his chest, clear confusion etched onto his face. “I do have some books I can send off to the Tome Tomb.”

 

Arthur leaned over to the passenger side door and plucked up the 99, along with the stained buff rag there. He paused and blinked, before he went ahead to squirt some of the gel onto the rag. “No Vi, don’t. I can call in, ask for an advance on some job—”

 

“Where’s Lewis?” Dimitri called. He leaned out of the passenger door, as Vivi began helping Arthur clean off his good hand. Dimitri recoiled from the pale faces that wretched to him, eyes troubled and lip corners turned down. “Am…I allowed to ask?”

 

Traffic was terrible. Tourists were on the roads and didn’t know how to drive – they stopped suddenly when they made turns, struggled to climb up roads on bridges that hadn’t been salted. Amazingly there were no major wrecks, at least they never came upon any. It was still daylight and the road wasn’t too icy since the sun had been out, except in choice areas where the rising slopes of bridges were pummeled by the faint breeze.

 

“Take the exit here,” Dimitri says. He raises his hand from the top of his duffle bag and indicates a sign, and the road cutting through the grassy knolls and trees. “That’s my school there. Or, was.” The school was typical. Large fields for sports and play, the entire main campus with its classrooms entirely enclosed, the line of windows along the outer walls revealed long corridors filled with dark blues and purples. “I don’t know if we’re on winter break.”

 

Vivi wanted to ask, but she feared reminding him. If he wanted to talk about it he’d come to them, but it wouldn’t be right to ask. “It looks perfectly average.” She rubbed at Mystery’s shoulders, from where he lay curled mostly on her lap. Occasionally, Mystery would lean far over to Dimitri and set his cheek on the boys elbow, and Dimitri would rub his soft ears. They passed rows of small family style lawns, each paired to a home of wood or stone, shingle panel walls. Most the homes looked alike, with one or three windows per front facing the street.

 

Dimitri shivered when Mystery leaned away. “You turn right, and go down the next road. Um…. stick to Cleft Street, it goes all the way down.” Upon first glance Dimitri knew his neighborhood had changed drastically; it felt smaller, if he was to judge. Not long ago the streets had seemed huge, vast, perfect for endless exploration at any ungodly hour of the day. “My house will be the one with the big stupid palm tree, with a sheet wrapped around it.”

 

A shallow laugh jumped out of Arthur. “A palm? In this climate?”

 

“My dad had it planted.” Truthfully, it had been Dimitri’s hidden agenda to demolish the thing. “This is the place.”

 

The yards were nice, gravel and edged with green shrubbery scape, other lawns retained their fresh grass cleanly cut, a few retained the thin powder from the previous night. Most trees that sprouted in the lawns were bare of leaves, save for the resistant oaks that refused to drop a single leaf. Storm gutters along the roads remained cluttered with leaves from the Fall, and only a scarce rebel yard had not finished picking up the litter of brown and yellow lumps.

 

“We’re gonna turn around, and park across the street,” Arthur said. “In case, I dunno. Do you still have a house key?”

 

Dimitri nods. “My dad should be home,” he added. “I’m pretty sure.”

 

Further down the road was one of the C driveways that cut through the front yard, and Arthur used that to make the return trip to Dimitri’s bronze wood panel home. “No palm?” Arthur posed. He pulled the van to a halt a few yards across from the house, and eyed the bare woodchips where undoubtedly in a long ago time, something stood tall and proud.

 

“Imagine that,” Dimitri scoffed. He gripped his bag to his chest, as Arthur shut down the engine and climbed out from the driver side. Arthur took the bag as Dimitri bullied it out, and handed it when Dimitri was settled himself on the road. They stood staring at the other, gauging what to say and how to speak it. “You think this is goodbye?” Dimitri asked first.

 

“Uh…no,” Arthur murmured. “No. We’re still, we’re trying to find your brother. What?” Arthur placed his fists to his hips, and tries to pose. “You’re not in doubt, are you?”

 

Dimitri raised his shoulders. “I dunno. Is he still out there? Or—” He jerked in place when Arthur knelt, and set his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders. Arthur looked the boy straight in the eye.

 

“We’re still looking,” he said. “We’ll find something. We’ll do what—” He stopped, and took a breath. “You should go in a check with your dad. Maybe he found something. Maybe… you running off snapped him out of it.”

 

“Yeah.” Dimitri nodded. He dropped his bag and stepped forward. Arthur let his arms sag at his sides, when Dimitri wrapped his arms around his neck. “Thanks for believing in me.” Then in a blink, Dimitri had snatched up his duffle bag and raced away, across the road. Arthur remained on his knees staring, asphalt digging into his skins, as the boy raced across the road to the bronze home. He heard Vivi shuffled over in her seat and lay down to look at him.

 

“Well….”

 

“Well…..” Vivi answered. “I want to find an unoccupied home, to charge up the laptop. But I don’t want to leave the van unguarded right now.”

 

Arthur stood, and reached over to Mystery perched on Vivi’s back. “That would be kind of illegal, if you care.” Mystery gurgled as Arthur scratched his chin. Arthur raised his eyes from the dog, and shifts his gaze onto to the makeshift curtain attached from the ceiling of the van. He frowned, and whispered, “Vi. You do hear that, don’t you? That, is it a thumping?”

 

“The echo,” she hummed. Arthur opened his mouth, but clamped his jaw shut and nodded. Vivi brought her palms up to her chin, and leaned her elbows onto the soft seat. “Yeah. It’s just Lewis.”

 

 

Leaves from the neighbor’s tree still lay scattered inside the alcove that arched over the thin porch. Dimitri pulled himself up short when he caught his reflection in the crystal clear window of the front door. Everything felt smaller, the walls of his home crowded at his shoulders, the leaves crackle under foot as he made the last few steps. Slowly. He wasn’t in any hurry. He doubted the Mystery Skulls would wait for him to go inside and learn what he already knew. The truth frightened him, facing it was his worst fear. And what he would learn.

 

But he could be wrong. He could have exaggerated, he could misremember. He was what, nine? Nine was too young to be so certain of the world.

 

The doorbell gave its soft warble when he jammed the little button with his thumb. Dimitri stood back and tightened his arms around his bag. What would his father say? How would he react? Anger was his least concern. Something about being forgotten while still alive to appreciate the value of irony. Dimitri didn’t credit much irony and its theatrical values, he was too young, but he could understand the motions of loss. Especially if he was to be the one left behind, given up on.

 

For a long time nothing happened, and Dimitri rang the bell again. He was about to try a third time when sounds lifted from within. Footsteps, a voice. 

 

Dimitri had a sudden rush of doubt. He took a short step back, fearful of what may be beyond the door. Who would it be and what would they say? The past month was gone, a blur in his mind. He couldn’t remember where he was or where he had come from. A sudden lightness buzzed in his head. Until the door opened, and a face, a foreign strange face stared at him. Then smiled.

 

“Son!” The face was muffled behind the glass. He fumbled with the latch of the glass panel, until the handle was unlocked and the door pushed open. “Where have you been? I was worried about you.”

 

Dimitri’s eyes drooped as he stared up at his father. The same eyes, the same glasses, the same short trimmed mustache. “You were?” he gulped, throat dry. He hesitated from the arm that beckoned him into the home. The sweet scent of Hawaii scent plugins lingered in the warm air of his heated home. So warm, almost scorching to his chilled skin. He looked up at the man as he waited, infinite patience. “How long have I been missing?”

 

His father shifts his footing and propped a leg beside the door. “What? That doesn’t matter. You’re home now. Come in.”

 

Dimitri was still hesitant, but the heated air and the fresh familiar smells of home were encouraging. He stepped past the man, and stepped through the tiny cluttered hall of the small foyer.

 

It was just as he remembered. Pictures hung on the walls, a mirror for a vanity desk stood in an alcove to one side of the hall. At the halls end, to the right was a living room, beyond that a formal dining room and the sliding doors to his backyard. To his left near where he stood was the staircase leading to the upper floors, the steps divided leading to two different sides of the second floor. Below the divided steps, an archway led into the kitchen, and from there the smells of food came. Dishes home cooked, prepared with love. Lies. Deceit.

 

The door snapped shut at his back, and Dimitri winced as his father strolled by. “I’ll tell your mom you just got in. She has been worried sick.”

 

Dimitri glared the way his father went. He didn’t feel at home, didn’t feel welcomed. He was a cuckoo child, invading some nest that belonged to some happy, stupid boy with all his friends, all his family, in proper order.

 

“I’ll… be upstairs,” he managed to say, without puking.

 

“Come get some food,” his father called, from somewhere in the house. It didn’t sound like the kitchen, but Dimitri wasn’t paying attention. He had already set his hand on the polished wood railing and ascended to the second floor. One side was the bathroom, a guest room, the other….

 

He dropped his bag at the threshold of his door. It was still open, same as he left it that day. He didn’t touch the door, but stepped along the upper floors rail to the other room. 

 

The door was shut, like he always left it. The doorknob swiveled loose in his grip, nearly broken. Unlocked. He pushed the door open. The stale scent of the room crept out, cool on his skin despite the overworked furnace of the home. A tomb. The door swung away, creaking in its arid hinges, and Dimitri stood in the doorway looking over a room sun splashed in the last rays of the day, but dismissed by times passage.

 

Figurines of monsters and action toys cluttered the Chester drawers. A comic book here and there left scattered on the floor, a few items and clothing articles stuffed under the bed. The sheets half thrown from the mattress top. Dimitri, not him but the toy, his kid brothers favorite stuffed toy beasty was missing. He had never been able to find it. 

 

If there was a token of memorabilia that he was to take from the room, it would have been that.

 

 

Soft tunes crackling through the radio helped. The sound was distracting if not enjoyable; he could listen and sing along in his head to some of the oldies on the obscure stations. Station hoping was tricky business when long distance travel was the highlight of the job. 

 

Another hour gone by, the sun would be setting by five.

 

“He’s been in there awhile,” Arthur muttered. The radio hummed on, but not a word was uttered for a long time. “You think he’s okay?”

 

Vivi gave her head a light shake. “He hasn’t come charging out, the natives chasing, spears flying. That’s a plus.” Mystery took a deep breath and sighed. He lay between Arthur and Vivi, and Vivi rubbed at his neck. Arthur just sat scrunched up in the driver’s seat staring out onto the long shadows hiking over the gray slush and asphalt.

 

“I suppose,” Arthur replies. He tugs at the wrist band on his metal arm, rotating it around one way then the other and rubs at the rough seams underneath. He gets tired of that and leans his head back onto the headrest. “I shouldn’t have said those things to him,” he mumbled. “Why would I do that? I should have known better.”

 

Mystery leans across Vivi’s lap and takes the door handle in his teeth. He pulls the latch back, and Vivi pushes the door open. “Watch yourself.” Mystery gives a low grumble of reply and he hops from the open door. Vivi left the door open and listened to the cold air whistling through the bare branches of the trees above. She tries whistling along with them, and shut her eyes as she listened.

 

“He knows you were trying to help,” Vivi says. She stops whistling and turns to Arthur. “He just got really attached to Lewis, and… I don’t know. He needs someone that could help him forget.”

 

“I know,” Arthur groused. “I’m seventy-three point six hundredths of a downer. Bad vibes leak off me.” He slumped to his side as he rolled the window down and adjusted his position by sticking his legs out the window and lay his head back, enabling him to stretch out in the limited space. Vivi scooted over so his head would rest on her lap. Arthur glanced up at her curiously, but she only smoothed his hair down. “Spirits can taste it. I can’t help that my life’s a long series of fuck ups. Who wants that noise—” His voice was muffled by Vivi snapping a hand over his mouth.

 

“Shut up,” she hissed. “You’re not a fuck up.”

 

Arthur pushed her hand away. “Say what you want. It doesn’t change a thing.”

 

“It’s your attitude. That’s what gets you into trouble, usually.” Vivi set her arm across his forehead, and drapes her other arm up along the back of the seat. “You have that raincloud hovering over your head, bad things will take shelter in it.”

 

Arthur raised his arms up. “And I’m supposed to fix that somehow?” he muttered, and let his arms fall. He crossed his arms over his chest and focused on his knees, at the rim of the window. Vivi moved her arm off his forehead and began stroking his hair. “I told you from the start. This case was bad. We made promises we couldn’t keep, to a hurt kid still in grade school. We might as well have told him we could bring his puppy back from the dead.”

 

Vivi adjusted the little dark hairs on his forehead. “With our equipment, I’m sure we could’ve made some kind of arrangement.”

 

“That’s sick, Vi.” Arthur shut his eyes and tried not to imagine Dimitri’s face. Did he look the same way, all those years ago? No. “We find his brother. What then? I’m fearing the worse. Dimitri, he has no faith in us, it’s a ruse. He can’t help it, and I know where that’s coming from.” He sighed, breath fading in a thin haze as he opened his eyes. Vivi just watched him with her somewhat sad, gentle expression that smelt of pity and understanding. That same expression she had when he first opened his eyes. “Can’t you… accept that not all stories have happy endings?”

 

“I thought you would’ve known me better by now.” Vivi leaned over and hissed his forehead. “Not all stories have happy endings. But all stories should have closure.”

 

 

The bed was a frigid, solemn thing awaiting the return of its occupant, its charge; whom had walked off into the night. Dimitri sat on the edge flipping through one of the old Steven Universe comic books his brother had picked out. Dimitri had read through this one dozens of times, back when he couldn’t think of any other activity for the infinite amount of time lagging after him. There were a few other comics on the floor, but this was the last one he read his brother. It seemed kind of girly, and he was surprised his dad had bought it for him. His dad did a lot of things for his brother.

 

Of course, his brother was the baby, still was and always would be. Always.

 

A knock came from the doorway and Dimitri winced, but didn’t look up. He continued flipping the pages of the comic, as if reading each dialogue box for the first time. It had been awhile.

 

“Your foods getting cold.”

 

How did he make everything sound so ordinary? How dare he resume life, as if nothing had ever happened. Dimitri flipped a page.

 

The man entered the room and sat on the bed beside him. He was a solid man, and Dimitri felt himself slip sideways in his seat. “How long are you going to sulk up here?” asked the man. Dimitri didn’t answer. “We’ve done everything we could.”

 

“He’s still gone,” Dimitri mumbled. “Not everything was done.”

 

“The woods go on for miles and miles,” his father reasoned. He set an arm around Dimitri’s thin shoulders. Dimitri froze. “A search goes out every night.”

 

“Did you look for me?” The man says nothing. “Did you even notice?” Dimitri turns his eyes up to his father’s bemused stare. “How long?”

 

His father shakes his head slowly and squint his eyes. “Ethan. You’ve never been gone. Where would you—”

 

“What’s for dinner?” Dimitri says, quickly. “It smells good. Did she cook something for desert?” He stood up and moved towards the door. The comic Dimitri carried was set on the tall drawers beside the doorway. “Did you already eat?”

 

“No,” his father said, and raised himself to follow. The springs in the bed whine when his weight is removed. “We were waiting for you. Let’s hurry then.” He set his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders and patted them as he walked by, out into the hall. Dimitri followed at a distance, until they had reached the downstairs. “We’re here, finally!” The voice praised into the kitchen.

 

Dimitri stepped back, away from the arch and the sounds a clinking dishware. He zipped up his coat and went to the front door. The hinges groaned in the cold air as he carefully moved the door shut it behind him. He paused, waiting for his father to pursue him out onto the porch, ask him pointless questions and drag him back inside. It was impossible to guess how this would go, or what would happen now. He half hoped his father would open the door and scold him like always. That didn’t happen.

 

He half expected the van to be gone, long gone into the sunset. But the bright amber box of a vehicle was there, that same ugly scratch up its side, a thin line of sunbeam glinting along its upmost edge. Dimitri crossed the street and slowed his pace, when he saw who was standing outside beside the vans walls. At first the smoke doesn’t surprise him, until he gets closer and can smell the sharp scent. It reminded him of the teens that hung around behind the high school, always climbing onto the roof to get away from the teachers.

 

“Hey,” Arthur hums, as Dimitri gets closer. “How’d it go?” Arthur glanced at the white stick in his fingers and took another puff.

 

Dimitri shrugged as he slowed his stride, and moves to stand beside Arthur. “Not much’s changed. It’s like I never left.” Dimitri peers up at Arthur, as he leans his back onto the cold metal siding of the wall. Faint music vibrates through, instrumentals and synthesized voices. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

 

“Hhn?” Arthur raised one eyebrow. The blonde muttered something Dimitri didn’t catch, about intangible vapors and medicinal effects. “I’m trying to quit.” He took a breath from the stick and held it for a moment.

 

“Oh,” Dimitri answered, with a nod. “How’s that going?” Arthur coughed as he exhaled, and it sounded like the other had tried not to laugh, or was laughing and failed to get the act of it right. 

 

Eventually Arthur collected himself, he sniffled and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m just trying to clear my head.” He left the cigarette between his lips and sunk his back more into the van, his head hung as he stared at his shoes. Tunes continued to drift within the interior of the tin can, and Dimitri waited for some further sign but none came, or maybe he missed the signals. Birds twitter in the trees, and a car chugs through one of the roads in a nearby neighborhood.

 

Quietly, the boy asks, “Were you crying?”

 

Another sound comes out of Arthur, a little whine. “It sometimes helps,” he muttered. He reaches over to pull at the wristband on his metal arm, and Dimitri watches him tug at the dark material. Arthur murmurs something else, but Dimitri catches none of it. It might’ve been an apology.

 

He has to look away. Arthur is too pathetic to look at, but Dimitri can sympathize with him easily. It’s what he liked best about the scrawny blonde. Dimitri thought that probably when he got older, if he got older, he’d be something like Arthur. It unnerved him but he couldn’t reason that he wouldn’t. He wondered if Arthur had lost someone close to him when he was young, a younger sibling.

 

“My dad says, boys don’t cry.” Dimitri reached up and rubbed at his eyes.

 

Arthur sniggered in his throat, and coughed. “What does your dad know, anyway?”

 

The comment makes the tears come to Dimitri’s eyes, but he laughs. “He doesn’t get it.” His voice trembles, and he can hardly bring the words together. “I think my grandpa taught him, and now he wants to teach me. But y’know, he’s going to fail.” The boy takes a breath and lets it warm in his chest before he exhales, at the same time Arthur lets out a thick white fog.

 

The sun was beginning its slow creep beyond the tree tops and distant horizon of gray mounds, hillsides that only existed as fictional lands to the bold explorer. Drab tones glitter with frost on the ground, light seeping its last fragments of vitality into solidified moisture, before it fades completely like a memory. Arthur is still smoking, warmed only by the company and the inhospitable air.

 

“You’re a bright kid,” says the mechanic. “Maybe too bright for your own good.”

 

Dimitri takes in the scent of the cigarette that Arthur consumed through huff and puff. “My dad’s working on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri miss his brother. And Lewis. Why does everyone wind up leaving that kid?


	22. Chapter 22

##### 

Pit Fall

There was something inherently creepy about schools after hours. Once all the teachers had departed their homes and their lives, the children’s voices now vacant from the long empty halls. Sounds rose about when there should be no utterance; creaks in the tall walls, the rattle of the heating ducts generating a hospitable environment for the lingering abandonment, the scuttle of pages on a desk. A school was a place meant for inhabitance, it should be alive with laughter, voices, excitement. It should be filled with life.

But not at night, in the slow treading hours post dusk.

The cafeteria was expansive, with a stage to the opposite end of the kitchen/serving station. For the evening’s janitorial service, all chairs were flipped and set seat down on the table tops. Three emergency exits were strategically built on three accessible walls of the lunchroom, one was the entrance on the far side of the cafeteria where students filed in from one main hall, and the second was adjacent to the kitchen itself, its bright words EXIT gleam a harsh green in the blue haze of the shade studded room. 

A last pair of escape doors was built into the opposite wall near the performance stage, where the left wing of the sloping ramp descended from the stage top. Hanging high on the wall beside the double doors rested a large tak board, an abundance of notices and cautionary signs pinned with colorful pins. Most notably, the many pictures of children in black and white, some photo copies in color with information typed beneath the print. 

Yellow light flashes across the deep maroon curtain hanging beside the stage. The fabric sways in some draft, or reluctance to the light disturbing its rest. Arthur doesn’t like it. The fabric reminds him… reminds him of things he wants to forget. His good hand fumbles around in his pocket, tracing the crinkled edge of the box there. He moved his torch beam over the surface of the photos slowly. He twists away from the images and accusations and moves back to the blue figure huddled over a laptop, she and the machine seated on the edge of a long table, the chairs removed from the tables top were returned to the floor.

“None of the kids really have anything in common, only that they’re not over twelve,” Vivi murmurs. She scrolls through her grid block tab filled with information, names, dates; the blue light of the screen slithers across her face and gloved hand. The touch pad doesn’t work if she wears the gloves, though form fitting they are, and very stylish. “But I’m able to adjust my search, and find out what days of the month kids have gone missing. Try and narrow it down. Hmm?”

Dimitri slipped closer to the table Vivi sat upon, and looked at the screen. “Five have gone missing since me,” he uttered. “Five.”

“We haven’t even started,” Vivi says. “There’s this one area on the edge of town, where people have mentioned seeing kids prior to their disappearance. District… Flower? What was that name? Hold on.”

“Maybe it is the Slender-man then,” Arthur muttered. He moved away from the high board with the pictures of happy children— once happy, locked now in a time of carefree innocence. Some of the pictures had come loose from the board from the overuse of pins, and now lay on the floor at the walls base. “We have about fifteen to twenty minutes.” He shifts the flashlight beam from his pocket watch to the table, and pockets the watch. “Did you say you moved here?”

Dimitri stared at where the light hit the table, forming a golden halo. He barely realized then that the group used color coordinated flashlights. “Yeah,” he mumbled, distracted. “When my dad divorced.” He looked at Arthur, as the other swung his torch away and set the light beneath his chin. Dimitri winced, Arthur looked creepy with the blue of the moonlight and the cold empty windows as a backdrop.

“Then I will be impetuous and conclude, your brother is half-brother?” said Arthur. Vivi snapped her head up, her bright glasses glinting under the light of the computer. She had that look that could kill – if a minor were not present.

Dimitri only nodded, unperturbed. “Uh-huh. Some kid tried teasing me about it, and I punched them in the face.”

“That’s… very Noble of you,” Vivi says, glancing up at the boy. “But you shouldn’t hit people at your age. Wait until you’re older.” Arthur choked on whatever he was about to say. “Time, Art?”

“We still have some. I’ll let you know.” Arthur pulled out his pocket watch anyway, soothing kinked nerves with the slow tick of the moving minute hand. 

“It’s showing up here,” Vivi mentioned, pointing a gloved finger. She scrolled down the grid she compiled of the updated information ‘gathered.’ She tapped at the keypad and began nodding to herself, a half glimpse to the screen as the text reloaded. “You’re right. That given, we know that whatever takes the kids, only takes those who are native born. Clear matches.”

“Adults aren’t— ” Arthur shut his mouth, and jerked his light in the direction of the kitchen, where vague noises echoed from. A creak and low humming, probably the refrigerator unit kicking into gear. He took a breath, and tightened his gloved hand into a fist around the fabric of his pants leg. “Elders don’t seem bothered. None disappear?”

“Whatever it is, it’s not interested in them,” Vivi reflects. “It just doesn’t want interference. Or maybe they are affected but mildly, I dunno, subdued? They don’t completely forget, the extent is ‘lost interest’?” Dimitri crossed his arms over his chest and frowned Vivi’s way, but she took no notice; she was fully engrossed with the laptop. She pressed a fist to her lips and thought, humming softly to herself. “It can’t worry over adults getting suspicious, awful as that sounds it won’t risk removing those past their teen years. What would its motive be in taking the children then?”

Dimitri climbed up on top of the table and stood before the computer, and Vivi bathed in the hazy light. “You still think there’s something unnatural going on around here, huh?” he hissed, fists clenched at his sides.

“We’re open minded,” Vivi states, looking up at him. “What’d you say? ‘The authorities in charge of finding the kids gave up because they are the abductors?’ It’s possible.” She began typing, fast, and raised her shoulders. “Maybe the parents forget because there’s something in the water? A sedative? Those are all possibilities. Is that what you want to hear?”

Arthur slunk back over to the table, the light of his torch aimed at his shoes. “We don’t seem affected.”

Vivi snaps at him, “When do we ever drink water?”

Arthur paused, as if he never considered that fact. “Oh. Right.”

Dimitri sighed, and brought his hands up to his head and tugged at his hair. He supposed it didn’t matter what they thought, as long as they were looking. The Mystery Skulls were his only hope. Still, he wished Lewis was back from wherever he had gone. It worried him when Vivi and Arthur never mentioned him, and when/if they did it felt similar to how adults lie – negotiating lies- to sooth upset toddlers. Dimitri didn’t like to be treated like a kid, they didn’t give him enough credit. Lewis did. “Where do we go, then?” Dimitri mumbled.

Vivi fumbled with the orphaned glove that lay on her lap, and studied the screen. Dimitri edged forward and saw the familiar layout of Google maps. Vivi was frowning. “I only have an obscure lead on—” She glanced Arthur’s way, when Arthur spun around and held up a hand. For a tense moment they were quiet as Arthur tilt his head down and listened. Without a word, he motioned hastily for the two at the table to move. Vivi shut the laptop gently and she slings off her backpack.

Not long after they had everything gathered – the laptop packed away, the chairs replaced atop the table – the three were mobile and ready to exit. Before Arthur could open the exit door, Mystery’s clinking paws scuttled from the darkness, he gave a few gruff barks as he darted by the group and kept going, weaving among the table legs. Arthur caught Dimitri by the shoulder and nudged the smaller figure towards Mystery’s flashing outline. Rather run all the way around a table, Dimitri dropped to his hands and knees and crawled after the dog. 

Arthur followed the path of the two with his flashlight. “Shit,” he cursed. “We should still have time.”

“D!” Vivi hissed. “Let me and Arthur go first.” She followed close behind Dimitri, her flashlight darting around seeking Mystery. “The curfew might have made the response faster. Focus on keeping our heads, and not get caught. That would very much not work out in our favor. Stay close Dimitri.” As the group moved, Mystery picked up the pace, his shallow ‘ruffs’ gave indication of where he had winked out through the shadows.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Arthur hissed. “Why do I ever let you talk me into this? I know the outcomes gonna be bad. I never learn.” 

“You’re a supportive friend,” Vivi reminds. “And you wouldn’t forgive yourself if something bad happened to us.” Arthur gave a rather theatrical groan.

They reach one exit on the far side of the cafeteria, the doors locked with a heavy chain and padlock. Vivi takes Arthur’s flashlight as Arthur begins to pad down his pants pockets.

Mystery yips at him.

“I’m hurrying. Don’t rush me.” Arthur locates his lock pick kit and selects the sharp along with a toggle, he clenched the sharp tool between his teeth and grips the padlock in his good hand. The tool clicks in the mechanism, but he lets out a low grunt through his teeth. “Damn.”

“Hold the lights, D.” Vivi passes the flashlights over to Dimitri, then takes Arthur’s arm and elbow between her hands. Arthur mutters a ‘thanks’ as he spun the point in the keyhole of the padlock. When the padlock clicks, Arthur rips the chain away. Vivi jumps up, pulling the deadbolt in the top of the door free and charges forward, shoving the door latch and forces one door open. “Stay behind me.”

“K?” Dimitri mumbles, as Vivi tugs his arm along. Dimitri hands one torch to Vivi, and aims his light onto the polished surface of the floor. Behind them, Arthur tossed his tools into the case and shoved it in his pocket. “But what happens if we get caught?” His face warmed a bit when Vivi gripped his free hand. It was beyond embarrassing, but he kind of didn’t mind. 

Vivi gave a little laugh but didn’t look back at him. “Caught? Who gets caught?” she chuckled.

“Oh?” Dimitri decided Vivi was cool. She went on crazy adventures, broke into buildings at night, evaded the police, and she had an awesome dog. Why couldn’t more girls be like her?

Mystery hung back as Arthur dragged the door shut. “If they find that chain there,” Arthur grumbled. Mystery yipped at him. “Hey, wait! You got the light! Hold on!”

“Think you can keep up?” Vivi whispered. She released Dimitri’s hand. “Don’t fall behind. Arthur! Hurry! You‘re setting a bad example.”

“You’re making too much noise.” hissed the mechanic. He fell in pace behind Dimitri, Mystery to his side bouncing and yapping. The flashlights weren’t necessary to guide them, even if they were not exploring a linear hall, moonlight drenched the row of windows beside them. Sleek polished floors reflected streaks of silver across white washed walls, and the redirected light flooded the interior corridor. The walls that concealed the classrooms were decorated typical Grade school style, with numerous large boards tacked to the plaster and each filled with colorful pictures, typed and written essay papers. Arthur could see out onto the open road ventured over earlier that day, the bright lawns coated in crystalizing frost in the falling temperature. Another patrol car went by, a head lamp flashed across the large windows—

“Duck!” Arthur threw himself to the floor.

Vivi snagged Dimitri before he could take off, and slid down to her knees as Arthur belly flopped. On the walls of pictures and schoolwork, the light slid by tracing the dark outlines of pages, a rogue breeze rustled a few papers at their base. Vivi waits and watched the light gingerly scan over the wall, as if inspecting the labors of children. “Let’s keep moving,” she murmurs. “Stay low. There should be doors at the end of the hall.”

“At the end,” Arthur cues in. “Might be an office, or library, some sort of intersection? Dimitri, you know where you are?”

The boy nods, though the others can’t see it in the dark space below the window. “This is the Kinder side. The doors at the end here lead out to the playground. Heh, I feel like a criminal.”

“Sorry about that,” Vivi hums. “I wasn’t really thinking about how bad of a mess we can be in, if we get caught with you.”

“I told you!” Arthur ranted, throwing his arm up. “You never listen!” His metal arm made a dull thump when it came down, the glove he wore dampening its odd sounds.

“I take everything you say into consideration,” Vivi says, gently. “Besides, were not novices, we won’t get caught.” Arthur just growled to himself, muttering what sounded like ‘coats‘. “When we get outside, we’ll need to stick to the shadows and time when it’s clear. We can’t go back to the van right away. We have to be strategic about this.”

“You do this often?” Dimitri whispered.

Arthur muttered, growled something. “That’s… confidential.” Dimitri didn’t ask anymore after that.

The large doors were in an alcove, where the group could stand without too much concern of being seen from the road, as Arthur picked the lock. Once the doors were open, Dimitri cast a last glance to the hall. He’d never been in this section before, except under special occasions. He shook himself and turned to join the others in the brisk night.

It’s cold. Colder than the night before, the sky absolutely baron of the clouds from the evening past. Dimitri watches his breath fades in the air. The school had been shielded and heated from the night after hours ended, and now he missed it. He didn’t care if they got caught. As long as he could be warm for a bit longer; ride in a patrol car. But… his brother might be cold too. Wherever he was, he would be scared too, and there was no way of knowing if he was warm, safe, comfortable. They couldn’t stop, not when they were close. He could feel it this time.

“Give me the light.” Vivi took the torch from Dimitri and shut it off. “Stay close to Mystery, all right? And stay in the shadows.”

“I know how to sneak,” Dimitri grumbles. “Only idiots get spotted.” Arthur startles him when he begins coughing, and it’s hard to decide if he mucked up another off key comment or if the sharp air was hurting his throat.

Save for Mystery, who trots out and around to spot for on foot security, the group hugs the tall brick walls. They hike around the shielded side of the school, among thick shrubs and decorative cement barriers that align ramps, always in the presence of steps. The entire school was contained within walls, and any outside corridors cutting through were barred by tall metal gates. Refrozen ice from the night before glittered in tall standing lamps, its crusty surface crunched under foot. In some areas there was evidence of children’s play, snow angles and dark soil exposed where frost was scooped up.

“It’s really cold,” Dimitri chattered, as they passed by another corner. By then they had made it the edge of the football field, where they had crossed an hour earlier on their wild mission for references. Encircling the entirety of the field and school grounds was a chain-link fence and beyond that awaited the neighborhoods, a few homes visible with their bright friendly light glowing in window cutouts. He’d come past this corner many times with his friends in the past, when it was still safe to hike up to the school alone. He wondered if the disturbed ice was caused by kids that had been born in the town. “My teachers say it gets that way, ‘cause of the sky being cloudless. Something about clouds trapping heat.”

Arthur gripped his bad shoulder as he stepped around the corner. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Heat can’t escape, that’s why. It doesn’t make a lot of sense unless you know the science behind it, because it….” He let his voice trail off, and caught Vivi by the shoulder of her coat. “We should call it a night.”

Vivi turned to look at Arthur, as withdrew his arm to hold his shoulder. “Okay. I know, I know,” she said, voice misting. She reached her hands up tugging at the straps of her backpack, and then turned to where Dimitri was poised beside the wall, staring out. There was something she needed to tell Dimitri, something important, but the thought had dropped from her mind. Vivi sighed and touched her glasses. “Well… we can leave you off at your house for the night. How does that sound?” Wasn’t his father upset? “ _No-no. His father forgot._ ”

Dimitri glanced at Vivi. “I can’t go back,” he mutters. “I tried, but… I can’t. Not until…. Can we start looking? Now? Why can’t we start?” He stepped up to Vivi and stared at her. “Tonight? Looking? It’s so cold… my brother, what if he’s cold?”

Vivi draws back, and glances to Arthur. “We can’t,” she says. Arthur shrugs, and sticks his hands into his pockets. “We’re not ready, and it can be dangerous searching the woods, especially at night.”

Dimitri felt something in him tighten painfully. “When will you be ready? When will the time be right! I’m done waiting!” Mystery was sniffing around near them, but when Dimitri began screaming the dog raised his head and perked his ears. “Just show me where.”

“Just calm down.” Vivi hands over the flashlight and Dimitri, hesitant, takes it. The bulb is still warm, and he presses it to his cheek. “I have an idea where we’ll start, but in the morning when its warmer and we get some supplies.” She glances Arthur’s way when he flicks the lighter and raises the glimmering flame to his cigarette. “Just one more day. What— ” She cuts off when Dimitri wrenches out of her grip, the torch held beside him. Dimitri shakes his head vigorously.

“No. No-no-no, don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, voice low. “Don’t you dare say.”

Vivi takes another step in his direction, but stops and clasps her hands in front of her lap. “What if you just tried accepting that….”

“NO!” Dimitri’s voice echoes off the tall black wall and shoots across the vacant field. “I don’t CARE! what anyone says! I know my brother’s out there! Someone stole him, so he has to be SOMEWHERE! If you won’t— ” he has to stop, the tears constrict his throat and he‘s choking on the words, the memories. His little brother, gone from his bed. “Fuck it!” He thrusts the flashlight down, causing both Arthur and Vivi to jerk when it cracks against the frozen soil. Dimitri stifles a sob as he tears across the field.

Mystery stares the way Dimitri heads, and glances to his companions. He lowers one ear and tilts his head.

“Shit, that’s really done it.” Arthur sticks the cigarette between his lips and turns to Vivi. “I told you, right? This was a bad deal from the get go. Just… you should’ve waited.” He starts in the direction of Dimtiri’s fading form, halfway across the football field. Vivi doesn’t move, except to raise a hand to her eyes.

“You should go after them, Mystery.” Vivi turns and approaches the wall where Dimitri had been standing, and uses a hand to keep herself stationed and upright. “You know you should. Please. Go.”

Mystery turns away from Vivi, but dithers back. He doesn’t want to leave her, but Dimitri could just keep running from them, become lost from them for good. It wasn’t safe now. He gives his head a shake and cuts over the frost coated landscape, flurries shredded between his paws. Of course he couldn’t abandon the boy now. But Mystery almost feared most leaving Vivi alone for too long in her current state. Not this time. It would be all right. Not like… not like before.

 

His face hurt as he ran. Tears streaking, skin pummeled by the merciless frigid air, and his throat was full of cold needles. He ran until he felt like his lungs were bursting and his breath tasted salty, like blood gushed forth. Still he ran, ran away from it all. His problems, the things he couldn’t fix, the people that gave up on him. Flee his sorrow. But where was he to go? Would there be answers or more lies, hidden by kindness? How was he to tell friends from those that would fail him? He couldn’t do it anymore. One time he had fought, then he was running – nothing ever worked for him. Never!

A bark. Some stray out of nowhere, plowed right at his feet. Dimitri barely caught himself as he staggered, the dog had lunged in close but not directly under him, only startling close. It was enough to upset his balance and he toppled into the cold ice and grass of a lawn. He lay on his side a moment half crying and wheezing, he couldn’t wrestle control over his breathing, could only lament and be miserable.

Mystery stood nearby, his own breath misting from the exertion. He gave a low yip and padded forward to press his nose into Dimitri’s shoulder. Come on, get up. He blew warm breath on Dimitri’s ears and nuzzled his face.

“No! Get away!” Dimitri tried to swat at the mutt, but Mystery only came back and snagged his shoulder sleeve and growled. “I said go ‘way!” He shoved Mystery by his shoulders, and in the same motion Dimitri rolled upright onto his knees. “Stop! I mean it! I‘m not playing!”

Mystery tugged at his shoulder and maneuvered himself aside as Dimitri tried in vain to remove the dogs jaws with his hands. Mystery snorted and pulled harder, the hound accented his desires with more low snarls, gentle snarls that were not hostile but demanded attention. Dimitri stopped fighting and just stares as Mystery holds his sleeve. After a short while, Mystery released Dimitri’s coat and turns away. He took a few steps toward a bright slice of sidewalk and looked back, yellow spectacles glinting under the moonlight.

“They won’t help me,” Dimitri mumbled. 

Mystery yipped. Oddly, the sound had a resonance akin to “come along, now.” But that would’ve been weird. It was just cold and Dimitri’s ears ached. With another bark, Mystery began to walk away. The dog paced a few yards from Dimitri, throwing his head back with another series of yelps and hoots, not like the sounds of a dog. He keeps this up, until Dimitri managed to his feet and plodded into the steady pace his escort set. 

Dimitri stumbled a bit on the slick sidewalk as he followed, and worked to brush the glittery patches of cold from his coat. The coat Vivi had bought him. “I want my brother back.” Mystery whines. The fringes of moonbeams punch through the tall gnarled trees above, accenting his white fur with silver highlights and maroon flashes. “Dad didn’t like it.” Mystery slowed his pace and let Dimitri catch up to him. “I thought maybe that’s why he didn’t care. But I know he would, I know he would’ve. He’s not like that.” Dimitri rubbed away the icy tears drying to his cheeks. “He just doesn’t understand!” He caught himself on Mystery before he could fall again, then noticed the sidewalk that they were now on. “Where we going?”

The only answer was a dismissive gurgle as Mystery padded off, his pace picking up. Dimitri knew where they were, and he felt some small warmth return, a bit of hope restore itself. The van was ahead, parked in front of the empty lot overgrown with brown weeds and trees. He hadn’t thought about returning, hadn’t given a second thought to just waiting. He just… it was too much to think about, and tears edged at his eyes again. He didn’t know why, it didn’t help his current situation any small amount. He was still at square one.

Mystery trotted ahead to the vans back and began sniffing around the sides. “Is Lewis here?” Dimitri questions, as he stares up at the tall, imposing outline of the vehicle. The van had a sense of isolation, separate from the night. It seemed to devour the shadows, yet there were no trees near the road to cast shrouds of blues and blacks. “He should be back, shouldn’t he?” Dimitri hurried to the back door and knocked. “Lew?”

No answer. That didn’t come as a surprise, but it was disappointing.

“Is he around?” Dimitri asked, even as he knocked on the doors again; the hollow banging echoed within the metal walls. Even the resonance felt cut off from the outer environment. “Lew? Are you there? It’s me, Dimitri!” He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. “Mystery?” Dimitri pulled the door open and peered into the wall of black that hovered before them. “Hello?” Dimitri waited, listening and trying to perceive the impenetrable wall. He stepped aside when Mystery wriggled beside his leg and sprang up into the interior, the black hung low and soaked into Mystery’s white fur. “Is… someone there?”

Though Dimitri’s sight was limited, he could still make out that Mystery’s behavior was odd. The dog hesitates and listens carefully, ears aimed forward, focused on an unknown factor. Mystery sniffs at the air, then carefully, sets his raised paw, the one still bandaged, down. He moves further, deeper, into the dark gloom, fading out of sight.

Dimitri scrambles to climb up after the dog, but first manages to stumble sideways when his legs get tangled up in the thick blankets left along the wall. “Stupid,” the boy mutters, as he uses a ledge or something to push himself back up. “Lewis?” The air inside the van is ten times worse than the open air, so cold it penetrated his coat and nearly burned his skin. Dimitri shudders and begins to feel along the wall. He knows they had a few flashlights hidden around, but he never paid attention to where the spares were kept. Some light would help. “Mystery? Where’d you go?” His voice cracked. The dog was nowhere, he couldn’t even detect where Mystery might be and Dimitri worried he’d wind up falling on top of him. He tries whistling. “Mystery puppy. C’mere. This is no time to hide.”

Something in the dark swatted at him, and Dimitri gave a little cry as he fought it off. He was nearly to the point of hysteric shouts, before he was backed away from the slumping curtain. He laughed a little, uneasy and shaken. “I forgot about that.” He stands motionless staring now at the blanket half hanging from the ceiling. The gravity of his situation coiled about his mind. No one was in the van, he was alone. Lewis had not been here at all.

A small bark was given by Mystery, prompting Dimitri to locate the dog over at the back doors? Fresh light from the moon slipped unrestrained through the interior of the van, but the details were still hazy and crudely molded. Some bags and supplies were stacked on one side of the van, blankets piled by the other wall. At the doors stood Mystery’s bright outline, he barked into the night with some little urgency and the little spot of his tail wagged cheerily.

“Is someone out there? Lewis?” Dimitri asked. He raced across the floor and darted out, past Mystery as he slipped aside. 

Dimitri took a few steps out onto the road, and Mystery waited until he began to inspect his surroundings for any indication of a friendly face. Mystery padded away from the door, and took a hold of the blankets rumpled across the floor. Dimitri was still calling out into the night with some rising desperation, while Mystery worked to uncover the dark shape sculpted in the shadows. He moves around the side and holds his head back, high, in part scrutinizing the dark container, and a small trace of reluctance in his demeanor. 

For Dimitri. 

Mystery expels a misty whine, and begins pawing at the edge of the box, timidly, as if dipping his toes into thick paints.

 

There was no one outside. At least, not from what Dimitri could see. Maybe there was someone, the same person that stole children. He gulped down another hiccup, but felt his face twisting with the sickness of sorrow. They could be watching him right now, aware that he knew too much. He must be silenced. No one would know, he would soon be forgotten – for real this time. The people he once loved, believed in, none of them would care. Mystery wouldn’t leave him to danger, but Mystery wasn’t with him right now. What if the dog was trying to warn him, and Dimitri completely missed it?

He felt an illness twist in his guts, rooted by too much of stress and sorrow, and no remedies. It scooped up his insides and ripped them all out, his heart and soul. No one would help. No one could understand. He was alone.

“I just wanted my brother back.” Dimitri squatted down and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs and shook, he tried to bury it in his chest but it lurched free. Pain and guilt, serials murderers of hope and dreams. “Give him back. Please.” His hands and nose ached, his fingers were numb. Everything was cold and sharp on his nerves. He didn’t care if he fell asleep here and never woke up, or if a speeding car were to careen by. Anything would be better than the punishment of being forgotten. “I loved him. I swear I did. He looked up to me, I was important….”

“Dimitri?” a voice called. “What’re doing here?”

The odd scratchiness made it tricky to identify, but Dimitri knew the tone of that voice. He tried to uncoil and stand all at once, and instead fell onto his side as he twisted around on the icy road. “Lewis!”

“Y-yeah,” said the figure, slipping out of the van. He was zipping up his coat and teetering on his feet, looking away, around. “Right… quick question.” He adjusted his voice, working through the hoarseness. Lewis gave the area a brief scan then turned back to Dimitri, raising a hand to his face. “Where… are we?” He recoiled when Dimitri gave a shrill cry and lunged at him. Lewis put his arms out to catch the boy, but Dimitri flew right through his palms and wrapped himself around Lewis’ legs.

“I want my brother! I want to look for my brother!” screamed the boy.

“Qué pasa en el mundo? Que… what’s wrong?” Lewis couldn’t pry Dimitri free, and he wasn’t going to try. “Talk to me, Dimitri. Where are the others?”

“They won’t help me look!” Dimitri tightened his arms around Lewis, his last lifeline. “Vivi. She was… she was gonna say it. My brother’s not dead. My brother’s not dead! He’s just missing!” Dimitri buried his face into Lewis’ leg, and began to quiet when Lewis set his hands on his back. “He’s not. You believe me. Don’t you?” he mumbled.

Lewis would’ve sighed if he could. He didn’t understand anything; this conversation Dimitri had with Vivi, or where Vivi was for that matter. It was too surreal, too sudden, he wasn’t ready for this. There was just Mystery as a guide, but Mystery was in distress too, as much as the dog would allow Lewis to take from.

“Lew. Your glasses.” Lewis jerked his head up, and found Arthur placed not far from him. As if to emphasize the point, Arthur raised a hand to his face.

And Arthur was smoking.

“I didn’t,” Lewis began, and rephrased his sentence. He wanted to move away, get away from Arthur, but something was… off. Very off. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Uh huh.” Arthur took another draw from the white stick, and slanted his eyes a bit. “Vi and I were gonna call it a night… uh, Dimitri. Aren’t you tired?” He leaned a little over, towards the boy. Dimitri just mumbled and whimpered into Lewis’ leg. 

“Where’s Vivi?” Lewis inquired. To his side, Mystery poked his head out from the interior of the van and fixed on Arthur.

“Well, she didn’t want to run,” Arthur reasoned. “Is the van still cold?” He stepped a little closer to Lewis as he puffed at his cigarette.

The sensation was unsettling. It was Arthur in every aspect, but parts of him were shut off. His usual writhing aura of indecision, doubt, was diluted with something unfamiliar. There was no mediating presence, only a null absorbing warmth and drive, persona defined. Lewis was struggling to reach out and understand the coldness, the vague indifference, but it was impossible to grasp. And for Lewis, he didn’t want to realize it.

“Dimitri,” Lewis says. “Go find me a big stick. Real quick.”

“What? Why?” He loosens his hold and tries to look up at Lewis, but Lewis moves out of his way, leaving only a hand on his shoulder as he swings around and towards Arthur.

“It’s got them too,” Lewis supplies. “We’re gonna knock some sense into Arthur.” At that comment, a little squeal spills from the boy and he races off. Mystery lunges out of the van and follows, yipping.

That little cry almost startled Lewis, it was a amost too happy for comfort. He’s brought back to place and time, when Arthur exhales a mouthful of mist and smoke. Lewis glides back and settles. “Arthur,” he hisses.

“I’m trying to… fix this,” the lean figure mutters. “It’s complicated, ah. I told you guys we shouldn’t have come. I told you! Didn’t I?” He shakes his head and brings the cigarette back to his lips. He’s not watching Lewis. “‘Hey,’ I say. ‘Let’s try something else.’ No one ever listens to me!”

“That’s… not true,” Lewis says. He takes a step back, out of Arthur’s range. “I can’t reason with you like this.” It didn’t suit Lewis to be timid, but he was frazzled from his dormancy. Time was needed to refocus, dampen his sensory, the pitch of the colors swirling, but answers! He wanted answers and Arthur… Arthur was the last person Lewis could ask. Rather pursue the ghost, Arthur moved away towards the open back of the van. Lewis slung forward and jerked Arthur back by grabbing at the compromised shoulder. “You need to talk to me.”

Arthur staggers away, one arm latched at his bad shoulder. “That doesn’t always work. Does it?” When Lewis moves forward to pull him back, Arthur exhales a cloud of smoke. Some of its ash, most of its breath, but it nips at Lewis like static. Interference. “I don‘t know how to approach you.”

“Arthur.”

“Seem like every time I wake up, there’s you.” Arthur gestured with his arms, and glowers at Lewis. The ghost doesn’t rebuke the comment. “I hate the dark, I hate sleeping… ‘coz your always there.”

“Art.”

“Even before you made that spook fun house! You were there! You never left me! You just… won’t get out of my head.” Arthur moves to the doors but stops. Lewis hasn’t budged from where he stands, biding time. Arthur brings the cigarette to his lips. When he exhales, that’s when Lewis will move. “Shouldn’t you be concerned about Vivi?” Arthur coughed on the smoke as he spoke, “I just kind of left her— ” The sentence ends when Lewis dives forward, grabbing the smaller figure by the shoulders. Arthur gags as he’s shoved onto the floorboard of the van, and held there as Lewis reaches off to the side for the backpacks. 

“I know you were probably going for a Dispel,” Lewis says, as he works to get a bag open. “But I can’t trust you, not the way you are. You don’t know what you’re doing.” If he couldn’t get a bag open he had to find something in the cuvees, but he wasn’t sure of what to use.

“DAH! Yu!” Arthur flops wildly to loosen the hold, but Lewis only tightens his grip and keeps Arthur pinned down. An intelligible set of squabbles spills from Arthur’s throat as he fumbles around for something, a weapon.

A piece of paper, rolled up. Arthur knew what the sheet was, if he could manage he always kept one nearby. Vivi had given it to him and he suspected it might have been a placebo, but he was willing to try anything. Arthur’s hands were left free, and Lewis was distracted with fumbling through the supplies. With one swipe Arthur had uncoiled the script page and pressed it onto Lewis’ arm. “Spirit! Release me.” He wanted to laugh at how absurd the phrase sounded, and he was saying it to Lewis. The laugh came out with a maniacal peel as Arthur took a breath through the harsh cold air, smoke still curling in his lungs.

Lewis gave a high pitched shriek and withdrew a fraction from the sheet of paper. In the confusion, Arthur managed to get himself right side up and held the page out before him, but the words he intended to speak got lost when he saw the skull and the bright eyes blazing back at him. Arthur barked a curse right as Lewis grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the opposite wall of the van. Arthur can smell burning, carpet or plastic, he sees flames seeping up along Lewis’ suit collar and broad shoulders. 

“ _I don’t want your tears, or your apology! _”__

__Arthur winces, and kicks out against Lewis’ stomach but the ghost can’t feel it. “Lew’s,” he rasped. Heat, fire twisting in his skin, up his bad arm, spilling through his nightmares. “Don’t! LU-wus!” He feels his throat compressing to a dangerous amount and darkness begins creeping behind his eyes. “No! NO! WHY?!” Arthur panics and claws at the jacket sleeve, fights to rip away and reclaim consciousness, but the hands are locked to his throat and those ‘eyes’ burn into his own as if they are sipping at his soul. “Don’t keH -eh. –Mm beg… Don… Lews, lis- Listehhn….” Arthur voice becomes garbled, butchered. “Lis-sEN. Wak— Don’t do -iss. Is eee…..” It reaches the point where Arthur feels his neck is ready to snap in two. His grip jerks feebly at Lewis sleeve one final time, then his hands go limp._ _

__“ _If only... if only...._ ” Lewis echoes, to himself. “ _If only...? Can’t turn back time._ ” Lewis’ eye sockets flare briefly, and the embers along his back diminish. “Art? Artie!” His hands spring open and Arthur slumps across the floor with a heavy _Thud_. “Oh Dios! Art. Di algo. Yo no podía tener. Nunca lo haría…a ti...” Arthur doesn’t move, and he’s not breathing. “No… no. Como podria? Art! C’mon! Don’t do this!” Lewis isn’t sure what to do, physically what he could do. He can only think of the time his little sister had been choking, and what his mother had done. “You won’t…. I won’t let you!” He flips the unconscious figure onto his back and tilts Arthur’s head up, then hesitates. His hands hover over Arthur’s chest briefly, before he shoves down. Not the rib cage, that’s a fatal mistake many make. Just beneath, in the diaphragm area. That was what his mother taught him. _ _

__“Art, please.” If he’s not careful, if he gets carried away, Lewis could easily break Arthur’s body. “Come back. Damnit! Open your eyes! Breathe!” He adjusts Arthur’s head and touches his throat. He can’t detect breaks, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be breathing. “Arthur!” He compresses the center of Arthur’s chest once, twice— then a breath! Arthur sputters and coughs, his eyes snap open and he sees Lewis hovering over him, hands open._ _

__“Geh… get away from me!” Arthur throws himself back into the wall and slips away, hands pawing behind him for balance, security. He tries to take another breath and buckles forward, groaning and holds his neck. “Juz… why?”_ _

__“I… I didn’t mean to,” Lewis rattles, voice a mess of static and scratching. “You wouldn’t, and… are you okay now?” He shifts the bright embers in his skull onto Arthur, as the other retreats slowly along the wall. “Are you….” He hesitates as Arthur stares at him, eyes muddled, unfocused, and full of fear. “Are you— there?”_ _

__Arthur holds his stare unblinking, eyes watering, throat aflame. His expression intermixed with…. “What about you?” he whispers, voice broken. “Are you… why did you do that? Why?” He whimpers as another gasp agitates his wounded throat, and massages his neck. “Did you want to? Why?”_ _

__Lewis shifts where he’s perched, sinking a bit into the floorboard. He looks aside where a small yellow flame burns on the short carpet. Where the cigarette had fallen. It’s the cigarette he knows, but it could have as easily been him. It’s not though, but even the certainty feels like a lie. “You… hurt me.” He snuffs the flame out with his hand. “I couldn’t brea— snap you out of it.”_ _

__Arthur opened his mouth, but cut off when Dimitri’s voice flew through, muffled by the thick walls of the van. “He’s here? Gawd. It‘s… fuzzy. Nothing’s making sense.” He hangs over his knees and holds his head, rocking slightly side to side. “What happened? I can’t remember why I came….” Lewis drifts forward reaching for Arthur, but the crumpled figure recoils, eyes wide. Lewis keeps his distance._ _

__From outside, Dimitri’s voice was getting louder, more urgent when he realizes Lewis and Arthur are missing. Mystery begins barking. Thankfully the mutt had ducked out, Arthur didn’t want to think what Mystery might’ve done. It was in the past though, he kept telling himself that. Arthur was rocking again, arms bundled around his neck and holding his shoulder._ _

__“D-Dimitri,” Lewis voice crackled, and faded out like a bad radio signal. His skull became transparent as he glides to the vans front. “He… he can’t see me like this.”_ _

__Arthur hobbles away on his hand and knee, he waves a hand back at Lewis. “I got him. I-I’ll….fuh.” He hangs on the open door of the van, leaning far over when Dimitri rounded the side of the van._ _

__“Arthur! You’re okay?” Dimitri wobbled when Mystery ran by and bumped into his leg. “I was supposed to find a big stick, but I couldn’t find any big enough.” Dimitri rubbed at his eyes, and put an arm over Mystery._ _

__“A big stick?” Arthur echoed. “That doesn’t sound very PG.” He winced, and pressed his metal hand to his head. The joint connector in his shoulder ached in the cold, but at least it was good for something. “I’m confused, can you tell me something? Where are we?” He edged forward on the bumper and scanned over the presented neighborhood, of what was visible at the edges of the frost coated lawns, glistening in the moons light. “This isn’t your neighborhood.”_ _

__At first Dimitri said nothing and only stares up at Arthur’s numb gaze, revaluating time and setting. “Vivi said my brother could be dead.”_ _

__Arthur leaned away to hack dryly into his shoulder and took a moment to gather himself. Dimitri could see red in Arthur’s eyes as he turned his face back. “Wha? No, she’d never.” Then Arthur went quiet and sank deeper over his knees like a melting candle. He sat that way motionless for a long time, Mystery whining all the while as Arthur gathered himself. A few times Arthur would twitch as if… coughing, and shuddered at the cold. Finally, he raised his body and said, “No. She wouldn’t… say that. We don’t know anything, and she would never have said such a thing. Never. Ever.” Arthur paused to clear the tightness in his throat, and coughed a bit more. He pulled himself up and looked at Dimitri. “Do you believe me?”_ _

__Dimitri didn’t respond. He only stepped back and looked to the dog under his arm._ _

__The driver side door creaked open. “What I got so far,” Lewis began. He pushed the sunglasses a little closer to his eyes, and he carried one of the backpacks. “Something’s gone wrong. And Vivi’s where?” Lewis handed the backpack to Dimitri, but kept his distance from Arthur as the folded figure watched him. A sort of tension was at work between the two, and Dimitri couldn’t read it. He only knew to stay away from it._ _

__“We left her at the school,” Arthur explained. He took the bag from Dimitri and fumbled with the straps, he couldn’t figure out how to get the top open and gave up. “I thought, I think, I guess…. We left her at the school, and I was worried about Dimitri. That was on my mind last.” He pressed his cold palm to his eyes. His head ached._ _

__Mystery adds a firm bark. He was at fault too. But it couldn’t be helped now._ _

__Of course Vivi was not at the school. Arthur and Lewis searched over the grounds and around the buildings side calling, searching for their team leader. To no avail she was not there, but if she were she may have not wanted to be found. There were only a few tracks in the frost layer that could be hers among the many shallow prints. Arthur reclaimed his cracked flashlight, but that was the extent of the searches accomplishments._ _

__While the bipedal members searched, Mystery narrowed down the confusion of interwoven scents left on the ice. Though the water and icy air pricking at his sensitive nose made tracking difficult, he did manage to pick up on Vivi._ _

__The trail leading towards the gate out of the field._ _

__“I think Mystery’s found her scent,” Arthur called. The dog’s movement was slow, frustratingly so. “This is going to take too long.”_ _

__Mystery snuffed at that comment. His toes were numb and the bandage on his paw was filthy, but he did try to hurry up the pace. Arthur followed as the hound led along the chain link fence, towards an open gate facing the road. The open floor of the gate that connected the field and the sidewalk was filled with the scratch marks made in the icy mud by dozens of feet, school children and visitors alike throughout the day. It would have been easier to track Vivi if it had actually snowed._ _

__“Mystery can maybe track up the road,” Arthur says, when Lewis and Dimitri catch up from across the field. He shudders and rubs at his flesh arm, though it didn’t help. “But we’re gonna have to get in the van and crank up the heat.”_ _

__Lewis checked on the smaller boy that shadowed them. Despite his coat, Dimitri still had his arms plastered around his sides and his breath showed in thin lines, but the boy appeared bright eyed and alert. “You can drop him off at the motel room, and Mystery and I will keep searching.”_ _

__“No,” Dimitri snapped. He stopped in his tracks and glowers up at Lewis and Arthur when they turn to him. “I wanna make sure Vivi’s okay too.”_ _

__“It’s super cold,” Arthur chattered, rubbing at his shoulders. “You’re gonna catch pneumonia. I’m not kidding this is serious, you can die! We’re thinking about your wellbeing, D.”_ _

__“Then stick me in the van with the heater, and your guy’s blankets,” Dimitri reasoned. He looked Lewis’ way, as Lewis adjusted his sunglasses and moved his sight to the road. “It’d take too much time for you to drive back here, then figure out where you left off.” Another idea comes to his head. A slim chance, it was farfetched but Dimitri was willing to try anything. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep this night, not until he had some answers. “What about we try that place where some of missing kids were last seen? The Prime Rose district?”_ _

__“It’s a rumor,” Arthur explains. He stepped aside, a little away from Lewis when the taller figure looked at him. “Witnesses thought they saw some kids in that area, before they disappeared.” Mystery stopped beyond the chain link fence on the sidewalk, and turned to look at Arthur. Lewis and Dimitri followed the dog, but Arthur remained beside the gate. “If they are under the influence, should we really trust what’s been put in the reports?”_ _

__Lewis looked from Arthur, to Dimitri and Mystery’s expectant gazes. “You weren’t… lying, either?” he said, slowly. “It only alters the way people think, how they react.” It was difficult to explain what he picked up from Arthur. Lewis moved away from the group and beckoned them with an arm as he walked down the sidewalk away from Mystery, to where Arthur left the van. “If she hasn’t gone far, then we’ll see her on the way.”_ _

__As the hour got later the streets became deserted, with the curfew in full effect the stray car was a spontaneous appearance. Lewis did note that most were law enforcement out on patrol, but he tended to agree with Dimitri that they were worthless. The Prime Rose district was a few miles across the town, through smaller neighborhoods and the shopping/fast-food plazas; but no sign of Vivi. She was on foot, but they only cruised methodically along the roads always straining to peer through the dull haze of night. The fractured light contrasted every dark space in home and lawn, but never indication of a dark shadow skittering about._ _

__“I’m sorry I ran away,” Dimitri mumbled. He clutched Mystery to his chest, the folds of the blanket draped over his shoulders slumped around him and the dog. “If I hadn’t… I should’ve known something wasn’t right. You hadn’t….” He pressed his face into Mystery’s neck, and mumbled._ _

__“You couldn’t have known. You were upset,” Lewis assured. He gave Dimitri’s head a little pat, then returned his focus to the passenger side window, searching through the sidewalks and brush. “We’ll find Vivi, no problem. Don’t fret, hermanito.” Lewis was still worried, but he’d hide it._ _

__As the van took another turn, Arthur leaned far over in his seat to peer out the driver window and check any spaces in the lawns he might’ve missed. “What do we do if we can’t find her?” he ponders aloud, and shifts his eyes back to Lewis. “Not that I’m doubting, well… I dunno if we will, this towns not big but—”_ _

__“You take Dimitri back to the motel, and I’ll keep searching,” Lewis rasped. “But it’s too cold for her to be out.”_ _

__“I’m not going back to the motel,” Dimitri urged again. “You guys are hopeless without me around.”_ _

__Lewis was about to contend with that assumption, but the van jarred to a near halt. They were still moving if barely, and Arthur had leaned hard onto the steering wheel with his eyes fixed on something beyond the hood. Lewis caught his spike of excite the instant before Arthur spat, “Found her. There!”_ _

__“I need to borrow your bag for a second.” He snatched the backpack away from Arthur’s side, and sprang out the passenger side door. “Wait here,” he called, before slamming the door on the sudden swell of frigid air._ _

__They had arrived on the road beside the Prime District, the park on the edge of the town. It wasn’t a large park, but it was up against the edge of the woods with a brick wall that stood around the freshly trimmed landscape and the wild grove beyond. A stone path cut through the lawn, leading to a gazeebo built on one side of the park. The base was white stone, and contrasted with the dark shade of a figure standing among the shimmering white frost, back presented to Lewis._ _

__As Lewis neared Vivi, he slowed his stride cautious if she could anticipate his appearance or of what to expect. She still had a backpack, he saw. If she did not appreciate his interference, Lewis would not fight. “Vivi?”_ _

__She edged around to check the voice. “LewLew, you’re up,” she hummed. “Were you just stunned?”_ _

__“Yeah,” he murmured, and cut the distance between them by two strides. No sudden movements; smooth, gliding motion. “What’re looking at?” Lewis kept track of the dark figure he was now near, but shifts his attention beyond her and sought out across the park. “Is that…?”_ _

__“I thought about what Dimitri said, and it made sense,” she spoke. She leaned on the edge of the gazeebos wall and watched the small figure wandering across day old frost, the graceful steps almost like a dance. “There was something else… but I can’t remember. I try.”_ _

__“Are you following her?” he asked. Lewis felt cold, legitimately cold to the core. The girl couldn’t be more than six, and she was out here in pajamas and no shoes._ _

__“I’m thinking some kind of nymph or sprite. If they call children out to the woods, then it spirits them away… or something like that. It has a hold of— What are you doing?” Vivi spun around when Lewis set down the backpack, and moved the last few feet toward her. Lewis unzipped the top of his jacket. “Lew?”_ _

__“Here.” Lewis reached a hand into his coat and brought forth the heart locket. Vivi was backing away from the gazeebo and toward the open landscape, but Lewis swept a hand out and caught her around the backside. “Listen to my voice. Focus…” he said, as he opened his hand to allow the glimmering locket to hover freely above Vivi. Lewis brought his hand down and gently lay his fingers over her brow. “And come back to me. I know you’re still there. Romper el atascamiento que engaña a su mente.” He lightly touched Vivi’s eyes and raised his hand back. “Preservarlo que honra a nuestro contrato.”_ _

__Translucent flames coughed out at his jacket sleeve as he drew his hand back and tightened his fist, as if drawing a thread from the bluenettes mind. His appearance lost solidity, skull flashed through the illusion, bleached bone and eyes baleful in the blue moonlight. Lewis maintains the illusion with good effort and stares over the rim of his sunglasses, at Vivi’s shimmering eyes. “No… Vi. Too far.” The clenched fist quivers, the embers in his eyes sockets smolder, brighten. “Not there…. Don’t look, Vi.” Lewis snaps his hand out catching the suspended locket and brought it to his chest. “I can’t… let…..” Lewis’ eye sockets go dark behind the thick shades he hides behind. He lowers his head and tightens his hold on the locket at his chest. Everything is dark and cold again. Lost._ _

__Vivi goes limp, her eyes flutter shut as she falls back supported only by Lewis’ hand. It took a second for her to get her bearings and come to. “Lew… Lewis?” she says. Lewis doesn’t answer, but flinches at her voice and cradles the softly pulsing heart at his chest. “What have you done?” she whispers._ _

__“Nothing.” Only then did Lewis raise his face to meet her gaze. “I took a risk. Do you…?” He couldn’t ask. If he asked, it might trigger something. He couldn’t hurt her, never. “What you were doing last?” He eased Vivi onto her feet, but kept a hand on her shoulder in case she needed support._ _

__Vivi raised a hand to her head. “What… am I doing?” she murmured. Vivi noted Lewis adjusting his jacket, and quickly concealing his locket._ _

__“Can you tell me… why you’re here?” Lewis stooped to lift up the bag. He looked past Vivi, seeking the area the girl had wandered off into. They needed to follow, get her back._ _

__“Harvest moon.” To Lewis perplexed stare, she repeated. “Harvest moon. That’s what I looked up. The disappearances correlate with a Harvest moon, not every month but…. That’s the pattern. I was getting close—” She stopped when the rough pants and heavy foots falls crunched through the frost, suddenly upon them. “Art!”_ _

__Arthur was panting, though the distance he sprinted across the park was relatively short. He skids to a halt a few feet away from the two, his rapid breath coming in a thick mist startled Lewis back a fraction from Vivi. “I thought that,” Arthur stammered, eyes darting between Vivi and Lewis. “Is she okay?”_ _

__“Of course she’s okay!” Lewis hissed. He couldn’t blame Arthur, but his interruption was ill timed. He wasn’t up to this._ _

__Vivi darted forward grabbing Lewis’ arm, and caught Arthur by his good shoulder. “No time to explain,” she says, and pushes Arthur away. “Where’s Dimitri?”_ _

__“Left in the van?” Lewis presumed, answered._ _

__“Mystery’s with him?” To Vivi’s question Arthur nods; for the brief time he was too stunned to speak, pulling feverishly at Vivi’s grip. She hadn’t noticed. Vivi pulls down her backpack and slips out the laptop, Arthur takes it when she pushes it into his hands and she points toward the awaiting van on the road, engine still idling in its rhythmic whirr. “We’ll have to leave him. Mystery will know what to do. Go tell him.” She pushed Arthur away, and he took off running. “Grab the flashlights and some batteries!” Once Arthur was on his way, Vivi slung her backpack onto her shoulders and removed her hand from Lewis arm. She stepped toward the brick wall at the backside of the park, pressing her hands together as she took deep breaths, white mist flashed at her lips. “I remember…” she began, hands fidgeting into an awkward clasp. “I came here to wait. I know I was watching, I knew what would happen and I did nothing.”_ _

__Lewis followed after Vivi and caught her shoulders, he spun her to face him. “We’ll make this right,” he hummed. “We’ll find them. We’ll figure this out.”_ _

__“It’s not right,” she murmured. Vivi pulled her hands to her chest, and Lewis wrapped her up in his arms. “We were off guard. Lewis… Lew. Did you do something…? To me?”_ _

__“No. I would never,” he said, voice wispy. “I had to… dissolve its hold on you. It was a tricky, pulling you away. I couldn’t…I don’t want to lose you again, like that.”_ _

__“You wouldn’t lose me,” she said. Vivi wrapped her arms up around his chest and held him. The jacket felt frayed and worn, brittle around his tenuous shape. Air seemed to go right through Lewis, as if he absorbed the ice under his boots and amplified the sensation. That wasn’t right. “Lew,” Vivi began. “Are you—?”_ _

__“Arth’us gonna be back,” he said, and tightened his arms around her one more time before he let go and moved away. “She was barefoot. The little girl. I’m worried.” Vivi didn’t respond, she only looped her arms around her chest._ _

__The idling roll of the engine cut off, and a short time after a streak of yellow light was zipping across the silver field. Once Arthur caught up, Lewis and Vivi hurried the remainder of the way to the brick wall. It wasn’t a tall wall, just a wall built to segregate nature from order. The ground beyond it was soft and earthy, coated in leaves and full of brittle mulch dusted with glitter. The high tangle of the tree canopy blotted out much of the moonlight in thick clumps above, mostly due to the overgrown bundles of vines that wrapped about and crisscrossed all throughout the branches. There were large spaces in the coppices where one tree had fallen and the sky drenched the earth in blue-silver._ _

__“We almost don’t need the flashlight,” Arthur commented, as Vivi clicked hers on. He didn’t like being out the way they were, without Mystery. And it was cold. It was curcial to find the kid and get her back asap, but it was very-very-VERY cold. “Some tracks,” he muttered, turning his torch down. “Here, and here.” The ground had a shallow coating of the frost, and in the small wood clearing they moved through, the disturbance on the white cover was most noticeable with the contrast of dark soil. “Looks fresh. Not an animal. Too cold anyway.” He checked Lewis as the ghost drifts over, the figure suspended a full three feet above the earth. When Lewis is too close, Arthur elects to continue on his own and follow the trail. “Small tracks,” he mutters, as he moves. He tucks himself down under his backpack, seeking some small shelter from the lazy breeze probing through the trees._ _

__Vivi caught up with Lewis and knelt near him, touching the edges of the dirt clumps. She brought a hand to her mouth in silent anguish as she stood, and Lewis began to reach a hand out for her. But Vivi darted away, following the path Arthur was on. “We should be able to catch up with her.”_ _

__Lewis drifts sideways watching her go. Vivi may have doubted him. Or, Lewis feared to dwell if he had not done right? There had to have been another way, but he had panicked. He did that. Later he would ask, but if it involved her memories… he couldn’t bear that teetering around that subject._ _

__The trail was uphill, a mild ascent and no great difficultly for the surviving members. Progress was slow going, as they managed the trail and picked over the visible marks in the soil, carefully discerning the path before moving on it. They couldn’t afford to get lost. Lewis drifted ahead, able to identify easily where soil was disturbed without spoiling the delicate crust layer himself._ _

__“How is it kids move so fast when you’re not watching them?” Arthur grumbled, at one point. He kept close to Vivi’s side, his torch flashing with a faulty bulb whenever he let his movements become too erratic. “It didn’t take me that long to gather the supplies.”_ _

__“Idunno,” Lewis responds. He tipped forward, checking the texture of loosened earth scattered on a patch of ice. “The pacing looks like she was running. He swung himself upright, and skimmed beneath the canopy with his ember eyes as he glides, low. The assumption made his bones clatter, but he could…. theoretically. Nothing was stopping him, nothing physical anyway. But… somehow he couldn’t bring himself to move on the whim. Terrible. Ghastly! The only factor holding him back was his irrational fear. What if it was his own sister? What then? He would just… hover, down here, and never take the incentive. How could he—_ _

__Lewis jarred when a hand touched his arm. A few wisps of fire popped off his neck and hair as Vivi mirrored his jarred movement, with a cringe of her own. Arthur was ahead for once; the cold made him anxious, impulsive, maybe impulsive. It wasn’t fair._ _

__“Hey,” Vivi said, softly. She tugged on his jacket sleeve, gathering Lewis’ attention. “We’re making good time. It’ll be okay.” She held his stare for a short time. She was too understanding at times. She squeezed his sleeve a little tighter. “You’ll see.” Then, Vivi ducked off on the path becoming steadily clearer before them._ _

__That didn’t help. If anything, it made Lewis feel worse. She shouldn’t sympathize, shouldn’t understand this ‘complication’ of his. There was no reason he couldn’t go find that girl, cold, lost somewhere in these woods. No reason. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to take the initiative. It was like he was tied to the earth and it wasn’t fair, not to her. He had no limitations, those were stolen from him, all of them. He had no excuses._ _

__Lewis glides onward, carefully sifting through the marks in the soil. Hoping beyond rational that somehow in their delayed, lost search; somehow, they would catch up with the forests next victim before they met the culprit._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't gotten a chance to do 'Lewis strangles a scrawny dude' yet.
> 
> Into the woods we go!


	23. Chapter 23

##### The Biljka Pact

Waiting for nothing.

That’s all it was. Bundled up in a blanket and just waiting for them to return, but when would that be? Arthur hadn’t been too elaborate about the whole thing when he burst in.

“We found Vi, she’s okay.” Arthur was frantic and spoke in short bursts of words. Dimitri had no easy time putting the sentences together, hadn’t been too sure if the little half choked grunts Arthur spat were meant to be vocalization. The scrawny blonde dove into the back of the van and fumbled around. “Something’s come up,” Arthur burbled. He took the keys, a spare bag, food, and left Mystery in charge. Mystery didn’t seem overly exuberant about the last command, but he was a dog after all.

This cryptic news barely relieved Dimitri from the stiff worry he held, since learning of Vivi’s disappearance and the probable cause. They were all correct in their hypothesizes, somehow something altered the way people thought, robbed them of empathy, and now the Mystery Skulls were out there, most likely searching for his brother. Probably. Dimitri remained apprehensive, he wasn’t there to make sure they wouldn’t fall back into the manipulation, and he wasn’t there to make sure they did find his brother. He wanted to be there, but… he was truly afraid, though he shouldn’t be. He hadn’t put up a fight when Arthur zoomed out of the van – Dimitri had been stunned, everything happened so fast, a word edgewise would not have made a difference.

With the engine was cut off the heat that had thwarted the biting chill faded in mere of moments. That did stir Dimitri to reach for the driver side door. If he hurried he could catch up before they got lost in the woods, make sure the group kept safe and focused. The police force and volunteers spent weeks searching the woods, miles and miles of land covered in the span of a few weeks. Not one prson ever reported anything unusual… or they kept it quiet.

As he scooted towards the door, Mystery rolled off his lap and maneuvered between Dimitri and the door. Dark paws pressed into Dimitri’s coat and Mystery refused to budge, his red eyes caught the moonlight and reflected a crimson light. At first, Dimitri was speechless, until he realized how close he was to Mystery’s snout.

“Calm down, Mystery. I just want some fresh air.” But the mutt only straightens his legs out and placed his paws over Dimitri’s shoulders and held onto him, in a kind of hug. “Would you move!” Dimitri struggled to get the dog off him, and get out of the blankets they were tangled up in, but Mystery was stubborn and maintained his rigid posture with ease. “Okay, fine,” Dimitri grumbled, and sank back into the seat. 

Satisfied with the surrender, Mystery curled down on the blankets with Dimitri and rested his head on his paws. But always the dog kept one eye open, wary of his charge and any slight movement.

The Mystery Skulls faded into the swirling curtain of the forests edge. Dimitri watched the lawn for a span longer, wondering what it was they had found. Arthur had told him nothing, only that Vivi was located and they….

He looked at Mystery again, and the red eye gleamed amidst the blue fur. “It’s cold up here,” Dimitri said. “You wanna sit in the back where its warmer?”

Mystery only watched him unblinking. After a time of staring, the dog raised himself from the cushion and allowed Dimitri to free his legs. He wasn’t far behind Dimitri’s gradual movement, until the two had settled behind the bench seat, the blanket was dragged down after Dimitri as he wound it around his shoulders. A sudden sneeze ignited from Mystery, and his collar rattled in the dark as he gave himself a hard shake. That felt good.

“Hang on. Do any of these lights work?” Dimitri was going through the cuvees looking for the one that he usually saw Arthur pull a battery out of. He had imagined the little makeshift slots in the vans wall to be interdimensional pockets, and whatever you could need would be provided if only you sought it. It took a minute of blind searching, but Dimitri found what felt like a flashlight, and a few lost batteries that had fallen from the package. He unscrewed and screwed on the cap of the flashlight in the dark gloom, and before finally he put the batteries in the correct order.

“There. That’s better.” Dimitri shined the light around and Mystery winced, as he raised a paw to his spectacles. “Sorry.” He propped the torch beside one of the larger overnight bags the group carried, and sat down. It looked like Vivi’s, her blue color. An amber bag was not far from it, by the wall. They carried a lot of personal gear, color coordinated – blue and yellow.

Dimitri freed a hand from the blanket and tugged at the chain around his neck and pulled the glossy, carved rock out from his shirt. His eyes moved past it and to the back doors of the van, and for a short time he studied the doors as his other hand fumbled with an item he’d plucked out of a cuvee. He wondered how far they’d managed by now.

Mystery ‘oofed’ at him. And what are you doing there?

The twine was tied around its spool, but Dimitri managed to work off the tied end and pull out some slack. When Mystery ‘urfed’ at him again, Dimitri only smirked in the thin veil of yellow light and shifted to face Mystery with his back. “It’s a game,” he offered. “Cats-cradle.” He could do the bridge, a tower, and cats whiskers, but those were all easy. “It’s mostly you doing stuff with the string, until it gets into a knot. The goal is not to make a knot, but it’s tricky.” 

This explanation didn’t seem too suspicious, and Dimitri was only a child after all. Curious, Mystery shuffled closer to Dimitri’s shoulder and watched as the boy pulled the string through the tied loop of the twines end. Dimitri moved a little more away from Mystery’s stare, but Mystery set a paw on his shoulder to politely deny Dimitri from further movement, and Mystery brought his attention back to where Dimitri’s hands spun and twisted. Dimitri’s hand gestures didn’t strike Mystery as complex or coordinated, but he had not managed a knot in the thread yet so it was presumably a success.

“Actually, this part is kind of hard,” Dimitri murmured. “Can you help me?” He held up his palms and shows Mystery the twine zigzagged between his hands. “You just need to take this thread right here,” he twisted his hand over to point out the specific length, “and pull it. Or… would that be hard for you? You’re a dog after all.”

Mystery drew his head back and frowned. I am not just a dog. But this was NOW highly suspicious. On the other hand (paw), if he was careful Dimitri couldn’t do much but be disappointed. As long as he wasn’t focused on running off, this little diversion could work well for Mystery. Two could play this little game.

Dimitri smiled as Mystery moved around, face to face with him, and sat. The dog raised one paw, his bandaged paw, and took the side of the indicated thread in his claw. He pried it back, and Dimitri carefully worked so as not to slip the selected thread free as Mystery tugged.

“I always have trouble with this part,” Dimitri went on. He sighed, his breath fading on the frigid air. Mystery drew his paw back as the boy spun one hand over, and gripped several loops of thread between his fingers. “Oh geez, look at that.” Somehow, Dimitri managed to coil a loop of twine around many of his fingers. “This is why they don’t let kids at my school play this game anymore. Here, can you hold this?”

Mystery reached a paw up to paw at the threads with his claws. While Dimitri spoke, he looped a coil of thread through the mess he made around his fingers and snagged it around Mystery’s raised paw. Wait a minute—

As this registers to Mystery, the dog recoils onto his back legs and Dimitri looped a lasso of thread around his other paw, then yanked the bundle taunt from the string still attached to the spool he held. Alarmed barks and yelps leap from Mystery as he twists away, but the more he tugged on his paws the tighter and closer they snagged together.

Dimitri lunged, tackling Mystery to the side and pressed the thrashing dog down with his body. Mystery’s alarmed cries became muffled as the blanket slipped over his head. “I’m sorry, Mystery! Really! I would never do this to you! You’re a good dog, I really like you!” Dimitri straddled Mystery’s shoulder blades, and pulled more of the twine from the spool. The little bundle of thread tumbled around the two as Dimitri worked. Mystery’s paws had been pinned to his side, and Dimitri hastened to get them secured together before Mystery had a chance to recover and buck him off. “Just try not to struggle, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

I’m not worried about myself! Mystery capacities were limited in Dimitri’s presence, he could only lay there annoyed and dumbfounded he’d let his guard down. Still, he fretted over what Vivi would say if she found him like this. He vowed he’d never let that happen again, and yet here he was. This was beyond embarrassing.

After Mystery front paws were secured, but not too tightly, Dimitri stood up off Mystery and took the blanket that had fallen over the dogs face. He rolled Mystery up in it like a burrito, and tightened the corner around the dogs shoulders in a thick knot. Dimitri snatched up the flashlight, then knelt low beside Mystery to smooth back his ruffled mane.

“I’m sorry. You’re such a good dog,” he repeated. “I know they’re trying to help, but I can’t sit here and wait. Not if they’re looking for my brother.” He leaned down and gave Mystery a kiss on his eyebrow. “I’ll see ya later.”

The back door snapped shut, cutting out the chill and the light and the air spun still. Mystery inhaled a deep breath and sighed. That could have gone better. Vivi! Vivi was not going to like this. He wriggled around and pushed forward his back legs, setting a paw to either side of his snout and braced his claws onto the floor. After some pushing and disgruntled snorts, he managed to dislodge himself from the dog burrito. With the cords on his paws exposed, Mystery begins gnawing at them quickly. One after the other each loop snips, he does so with a great deal of patience but no lesser amount of urgency.

 

The forest was thinning, the large trees aged and weary succeeding the decades their kinship had fallen due to plague, disease and age that favored natural selection. The overall terrain took noticeable change that was discernable, maybe accented upon, with the pale hue of moonbeams slipping through the thin canopy. The undercover was made up of thin silver reflections cast by ice tinged branches and soil, as with the dark contrast of the thickening creeper vines.

Never in the search did the Mystery Skulls once catch sight of the lost child; the only indication of her presence remained the disturbed patches of thin frost. They were down another slope, then around a rocky cropping of stone and weeds. Thick vines wound around across and through the undergrowth, no origin of where this originate but always present through the canopy and path. The forest scape had a quality of life unlike the town. It was ancient and mysterious, sentient in a way that it had been present within the slow spiral of history in the making. Towns grew, streets laid, hospitals built and condemned; but the forest had not changed in centuries. It remained, growing and expanding despite civilizations ambition to tame its unrelenting spread.

When the trail moved away from the sharp rise of rocks Vivi noted that Lewis had fallen back, had nearly stopped altogether. The frost cover had been thickest and bright white over the pale dark soil, and it was easy to discern the path the girl had taken without extensive study. Arthur hadn’t noticed and walked on ahead, while Vivi gave pause and waited. “What’s wrong?” She could hear Arthur shift and presumably turn, his torch flashed in the corner of her peripheral.

Lewis stood on the soil just staring off, as if he hadn’t heard. Vivi called again.

“We’re losing time,” Arthur muttered. Vivi shook him off when he took her arm, and moved back to where Lewis had alit on a patch of roots.

“Lew?” she whispered.

“I—” He began, but paused and seemed to focus. “There’s something out here.” He held up his hands, as if testing the frail breeze. “Something repelling, unwanting… I can feel it. An emotion.”

“A spook?” Arthur asked. 

Lewis shook his head, the embers behind his sunglasses brightening. “I don’t know. I can feel it, but I can’t draw you a picture. I never… I’ve never experienced this. Before.”

“Can you move….” Vivi caught herself, the word she was about to use, and adjusted the question. “Are you able to come with us?”

“Yeah,” Lewis said, and he gave her a thin smile. “I just… walked into that. Like a wall.” A low kind of shudder escaped him. He was getting good practice sounding ‘normal.’ “Let’s go. No time to spare, y’know?” He hiked after Vivi on foot when she spun away, but he kept glancing over his shoulder, up into the tree branches and tangles of vines above. The night was vacant of breeze, but the branches almost recoiled from his regard. Withdrew. Bark creaked and the branches rattled, but there was nothing visible, only the sensation of… impression. The notion of it nagged at him, apprehension, evasion, a kind of lull but with more pulling. It pressed into his incorporeal sense, searching into him for something yet blundered about with no direction. If it were conscious he would have worried, but as it was the presence was more… awkward. Indirect.

At length Arthur fell back behind Vivi and slowed his steps. That deep concentration took his face, and Lewis could detect his concern. “Do you guys… hear that?” asked Arthur.

Vivi kept walking, but shook her head. “Do you hear a voice? Voices?” she whispered.

Arthur covered his mouth with the edge of his vest collar and coughed. “No… not voices.” He kept walking, but stays close to Vivi. They were headed downhill amongst tall trees that seemed to curl inward over their heads with thick bundles of creepers sagging low obscuring outward sight, a kind of natural corridor with small saplings and brittle timber. The forest was absolutely silent, no breeze tickled through, no life save for the two members of the Mystery Skulls. The air hung heavy, thick and hazed like water.

“I don’t know,” Arthur went on, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. Never did he glance to the tall figure shadowing Vivi; only into the vine cover, and the thick grove extending into an endless maze of timber. “Maybe it’s just Lewis. Wait, I didn’t say that. Did I say that aloud?” Vivi nodded, but didn’t express outward concern for the creak of alarm in Arthur’s voice. “Crud. Um… that’s not what I hear.” He staggers, trying to catch his flashlight when it slipped from his metal hand.

“Calm down,” Lewis rattled. “Don’t get excited. I can’t think when you get excited like—” He silenced himself when Vivi shoved herself backwards, free hand pressed to his chest. Lewis halts in his tracks, and looked past her to an opening in the grove ahead. A few yards out from the thick tree trunks they stood behind, and from the distance he couldn’t be certain what he saw. A tense moment of waiting expires, but a small blur does dart around through the vines. There and gone, it keeps moving out of the grove and flitters out of range. “Ah!” Lewis would have swooped forward, if Vivi hadn’t reinforced her grip on his coat collar and held him there by her will alone.

“Arthur hears something,” Vivi whispered, her breath thick and white in contrast to the black hovering shade they stood within. Once she is certain Lewis wouldn’t just go charging off she moved forward, but refused to release his jacket collar. Lewis half glides and steps after her, eyes fixed on where the shape had darted out to. Vivi used her thumb to click off her flashlight – they really didn’t need them – she would have stashed it in her backpack, but she feared Lewis would bolt the instant her grip loosened. “I can see something. There’s a clearing.”

“Guys, guys,” Arthur stammered. He turns off his light and sticks the torch in his back pocket. Arthur mirrored Vivi’s movement, a little jerky and delayed but quiet, the only sound from the scrawny figure came from shrubs snatching at his backpack. He crept in closer to Vivi’s side, and fiddled with the straps of the backpack digging into his shoulder. It was too cold for him, and his unease was making it worse. “S’like… you don’t hear that? I’m sure it’s not Lew’s.”

“Calm down Art.” Lewis tries to grab him by the vest, but Arthur ducked away and disappeared into a bush. “Art?”

Vivi hissed, hushing them. “Look. Look,” her voice became strained, low but with force. She hauls Lewis with her, behind a large rock and tree combination and peers out. “There.”

Not far from them something crashed suddenly out of the twigs, and Lewis picked out Arthur’s shape on the other side of some brush, panting and huddled low. With Arthur accounted for, Lewis focused out and inspected what lay ahead. As Vivi had proclaimed there was a sort of clearing, filled with the remains of fallen bleached trees like bones; petrified woods. Several yards across this toothy plain, a tall wall of jagged stone rose up from the forest floor. Gnarled bent trees had grown high under its seclusion, but were dwarfed by the imposing height of the rocky peak detailed by loose brush and blue ice. 

Lewis could see the girl wandering across the cavity infused basin of rocks and ice, barefoot but with no care of the inhospitable weather, no concern of the jagged edges of rocks at her feet. Void of mind. She strolls up beneath the low hanging reach of the ancient trees bent arms, staring… up?

Back through the twisted tree trucks, some distance above the base of the rock face smoldered a sort of fire brightening against the rock. It might be better described as a kind of Saint Elmo’s flame puffing yellow and blue from the rock. Willow Wisps? It zigzagged beneath the canopy of gnarled tree limbs, gliding down and down towards the child, as her steps slowed.

Lewis felt Vivi tug on his coat. He hadn’t been aware he was inching forward. 

“Wait,” she said. “We need to think about this.” Vivi’s focus was forward. She had relinquished hold of her torch to raise a hand to her face, and pressed her bright glasses close to her eyes. “This… there’s something about the reports I’m trying to remember. The flawed reports. Art?”

Arthur was tugging at his goatee with his good arm. His metal arm was near the leaf cluttered ground shaking as he sputtered with a sound. “Uh… what happened when Lewis went dormant?”

Vivi glanced Lewis’ way, then turned back to the scene before them, the child and the wispy flame dipping lower and lower. Lewis waited as she took a breath and held it, her mind sifting through data she had absorbed when she had been in an unreliable state. “We got close.”

“Lewis went down,” Arthur repeated.

“We got close,” Vivi resumed. “Because Lewis, you found something. You gave us something.” She was getting excited now, and turned to Lewis wide eyed. “Do you remember what you found?”

Lewis reached a hand up for his tie, the jacket was in the way so he patted at the frayed collar. “The pattern. Harvest moon,” he muttered. “Children go missing… big forest. Searches.” He turned to Vivi, realization dawning. “The search parties.”

Vivi nodded. “This place was found,” she whispered. “And it turns people away. They didn’t stop worrying. Adults were the ones that would be looking, but it sent them away when they got close. But you’re protecting us, it… ghosts don’t know ghosts.”

“That’s no ghost,” Lewis crackled. He watched a moment, twitching internally. He wanted to go out there. Why was Vivi waiting, if she was right she would sa—

Arthur shivered and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “That sound….” He leaned forward on his knees and stared forward, breath coming in fluffy small puffs. “You don’t hear it? You have to.” Vivi was about to answer, when it came to her. Yes, there was a sound. A humming trill. She knew that resonance anywhere. She glanced Lewis’ way, but it was not him. But Arthur recognized it too.

The flame wisp descended to the leafy floor, a transparent outline filling around the space of the flame, a heart of fire burning, swelling; crystalline turquoise distortions of blue intermixed with the smooth, glossy shape. Its manifestation could be liquid, it shimmered like molten class as it bowed towards the child poised below it. It wasn’t like a ghost, in that it resembled nothing human, yet it did resemble a person, a forgotten name. But it was something akin to energy, an 3-dimensional illumination sculpted from moon beams.

And it was singing.

“ _Thy hollow tis the sanctuary to the weary soul. Eternal wandering, misguided childer drifting. They are drifting through thee woods, wayward souls. Seek eternity, thy world is thine. Let me share a wish with thou, weary soul. Come to thee, hear thy song and come hitherto._ ” It walked, drifted, around the child, as the child watched the figure move and glide, gold wisps following in delicate lacey vapors. “ _Thy contentment is thine, nay shall sweep thou away. Adoration thou doth give, and the warmth of thy cradle from which thou shall never fall._ ” Flurries of cyan glide from the ‘sleeves’ of the sprite, drifting into the underside of the reaching canopy. The large trees lurch, their limbs bow low with tangles of the vines, bundles and wraps of creepers, unfurl and descend from the gnarled fingers of the looming trees. “ _Be with thee for the pact will be fulfilled. Amend what was wrong wayward soul, and thy indenture for thou will never falter._ ”

In the large bundles of vine coils hung faces. Gaunt, dirty, little faces, eyes closed and lost in a deep sleep.

 

Only a few times at night had Dimitri gone out to the woods, usually in the summer when it was warm and cool. If he and his friends could sneak out they’d play tag, or other games that were made exciting in the dark, with the potential dangers were made possible after night had fallen and the woods were transported into another realm, a new plain of existence that could not be compared to its daylight counterpart. If you got scared and went home, you were a wuss for a whole week. At least until someone else caved early and went home, but it wasn’t often they could get together and play after nightfall. It was safe in the dark, and it amazed him how easy it was for them to hide from each other.

That’s where he learned to track, more or less. In the summer the forest floor was coated in mulch from the leaf fall, and it took practice to identify where the leaves were scattered on a calm day. Dimitri was the best out of his friends and he had gotten so good he could track at night. Following the fresh onslaught of tracks trampled through the layer of frost was no new challenge. He was out of practice, out of his element, but once he got going he picked up the technique like an lost friend. The Mystery Skulls were far ahead.

Only his ragged pants kept him company and his laborious footfalls as he bulldozed through the undergrowth, shredding brush and tearing through creeper plants. He’d never come to this side of the woods before, it was creepy and old and far-far too far out from the town. There were rumors that people came through, criminals and the like to take refuge in the endless forest when they wanted to disappear- supposing like the children, may have been responsible for the children that had gone missing. That’s why, when his parents had been so adamant about it, he had never thought to question or disobey the order. Besides, he had his own section of territory he liked to hang out in, where he and his friends had a sort of clubhouse set up with old discarded construction lumber.

That was before the disappearances.

It haunted his mind as he ran. In the distance he swore he heard something scuttle, a twig snap, and a growl accompanied by the flash of hostile eyes. He ran faster, harder, sometimes stumbling over the roots and vines hidden beneath mulch.

“ _Why are they out here,_ ” his mind screamed. “ _Why all the way out here?_ ” But he felt he knew. He knew why but he was fighting to avoid the answers he had thought he wanted. He tried to force away the tears, the hot betrayal that would mark up his face. He wanted to know, but the answers terrified him. What would he find? What awaited within the heart of the woods?

He had believed finding his brother would be the answer to his sorrow. But the truth, it had finally caught up to him and he could not bear it.

Dimitri barely paused, out of breath and mist swirling in front of his eyes. He checked his direction, examined the moon, then he was shooting off again. He raced away from the haunting stones, legs weak from cold and exhaustion but he pushed himself. A thought in his mind warmed him, or was that fury stoking his furnace? In the end, it wouldn’t matter what he found. He needed to know, or he could never stop running.

The frost thinned and the direction was difficult to confirm. They must have middle around, got lost too. Most times he could only identify two sets of tracks, they might’ve splint up. Dimitri skipped to a stop on a bundle of broken vines and turned his flashlight, examining the path he now stood. Which direction? What way? As he jerked around wildly, something glint a few feet from where he stood. It spooked him back several steps, but he realized in his movement that it was nothing but some polished stone, glinting white within a tangle of vines. 

Something was wrong with the stone. The frost didn’t stick to it, and it lay upon a mound of something in the root bed. He shuffled forward, fearful of sounds and twitters in the heavy air, but he was alone, so very alone. He knelt and poked at the lump with his flashlight, some of the ice coating the side chipped away revealing bright colors, cloth, an arm.

Dimitri dropped to his knees in the leaves and ice, his grip on the torch tightened until his fingers and had gone numb. The sad little sack stared up at Dimitri – lifeless, stiff and cold. Its glassy eyes glimmer with light from the moon. He reached out and touched the small arm, rotted from many days pummeled by fall showers. No… no. He knew it would be awful, he knew it would hurt, but seeing it here in the state he was, he couldn’t bear it.

It was supposed to protect him, his mother made it to protect him. “Why?” he whispered. “Why didn’t you take care of him? You were made to PROTECT HIM! WHY!” He dropped over the filthy sock monster and cried onto its foul smelling cloth. His anguish was the only sound in the despondent woods. Far from his home, lost from his world. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you.” His mumbling died down enough that he could hear, the faint warble of… a voice.

Dimitri pulled himself back and searched through the dark with his flashlight. The light seemed to make distinguishing the shadows difficult, and he switched it off. It was there calling? No, singing. It sounded like the songs his mother used to sing when Luther was an infant. Dimitri loved to listen to her voice through the door when it was left a crack. The memory was so distant and fog laced, but that voice brought it back with such a harsh sculpted focus. Someone was in the woods. A person.

But he wouldn’t leave Dimitri. He stuffed his flashlight into his coat pocket, and then worked to untangle the little toy from the roots that had pierced into its underside. Soil and leaf bits sprinkled the blue ice crust beneath the sock monster as he raised it. He almost wanted to leave the rotted toy, it was rotten, falling apart, plant infused, but… he wanted it back. He needed it.

The voice hummed. He couldn’t make out words, but it was melodious and sweet, such as a bell, or the chime after a combat games finishing move. He brushed aside the gnarled vines that draped in his way and moved carefully through the brush. When he had moved further out from the tree grove, he stopped and clutched Dimitri to his chest.

Trees. Light. But what he saw first were the quivering vines, slithering and binding. The shape was alight, burning brighter as vines bundled over the small figure of a child no older than him. Impossible. What was it. An alien? A monster? Something inhuman doing terrible things.

And in the midst of the highest bundles of old vines was a familiar face. A face he hardly remembered.

 

“What do we do?” Lewis snapped. Vivi fists were remained latched to his jacket collar, but he was about ready to burst forward and do something drastic, maybe regretful. But he knew better. If Vivi was restraining him, it was for the good of those kids, and his. He wouldn’t be able to exist as his sane self if he did something… anything, that might harm them, even indirectly. He had to wait, but they were running out of time.

“They’re asleep,” Vivi reasoned. “Sprites or things, they’re not normally dangerous to the living.” She bit her lip as she watched, barely containing herself. Her fingers kneaded into Lewis jacket collar. “It… might let them go. It might not. I don’t know, I didn’t think to do extensive research into the area.” She sighed, and Lewis placed a hand on her shoulder. Vivi shook her head. “I don’t think we have the training for this. We could… try and help them, but if they’re in some sort of spiritually induced comma, interfering may do more harm than good. Their souls can be removed, lost.”

“Okay,” Arthur hissed. He was inching back under a space in the shrubs, leaning on his good arm as he pushed himself back. “Then let me iterate, WHAT do we do? Hanging out here isn’t helping.” He winced back under the brush when Lewis glanced his way.

“You were right, Art. This….” Vivi clung to Lewis jacket as she slumped to her knees. Lewis put an arm around her and kept her upright when her shoulders began to shake, her aura knotted with an inner turmoil. Vivi heaved a shaky breath. “Bad case. A Failed case. We have to call someone, get somebody out here that knows this sort of thing.” She let her head hang. God, this was hard. More than that, it felt… wrong. They didn’t fail the case, they failed the kids. They failed Dimitri. “If we risk— ”

A strangled sound came from the brush not far from where the group huddled. Lewis thought at first it was Arthur, but no, Arthur was giving his own half cry as he tumbled over and out of sight into the thicker shrubs.

Then Lewis knew. “Oh fuck,” he snarled, untangling out of Vivi’s hold. It wasn’t difficult, she must have understood from the pitch of the wail what was happening and threw herself aside, as Lewis lunged, nearly gliding out of the grove to snare the dark figure tearing from the vine cover. “Ethan! NO!” Leaves and frost scattered as he caught the back of Dimitri’s coat and held on, keeping the struggling child from falling onto the frost coated earth.

“No?” Dimitri screamed, voice cracking beneath the swirling fog in his eyes. “NO?” He twisted his coat out of Lewis’ hold and stumbled, propelling mere inches beyond the long reach. “My brother! And you say NO!” 

A burst of commotion thrashed about in the thicket, muffled whining and Vivi shouting with the backdrop of an eerie hissing; hissing like water on hot stones. Lewis thought he could pick out the sporadic bursts of Arthur dodging around, but he had to concentrate on his hands. He had to get Dimitri and get away. 

“All’s not lost!” Lewis shrieked, voice popping. Dimitri was too upset to notice how Lewis’ grip kept slipping through his flailing wrist, but he managed to hold enough together to keep Dimitri from racing full off. “You’re brother—” Lewis began. He would lie. He would do it. They had to get away, he had to get them all away to safety. “He’s in no danger! Are you listening? Ethan, listen! Trust me!” That word, that hurt worst of all.

The clearing brightened, snags of vines and tree branches curled backwards up beneath the stooping canopy. A flash of turquoise glinted, spun to where the disturbance had taken root among the broken memories of once tress. The hiss became louder, something more akin to slithering brush and leaves racing among root clusters of the forest floor. Vines detached from their ancient resting place between the old trees, snapping up over the glimmering light of the Saint Elmo’s flame. Earth splint and pulled back beneath the flickering orb, latching out and coiling up among the constricting layers reaching upward, higher, long shoots of vines seeking the origins of the moonbeams.

Leaves scatter and sigh as the twisting shape convulsed around the light of its core. It bent forward and arched a mass of vines, tangling thicker, locking into something like a back, but never formulating into such a structure; knowing no structure or its function. “Intruders,” the leaves wheezed. “Not welcome. Leave. Leave.” It chanted, as saplings rose up to its vaporous base. “Leave. Leave.” A mass of vines lowered from the tree branches, snapping free and drag around the burning light of its hot core. “Leave, or suffer thy retribution.”

“Do you hear me?” Lewis cries, desperation reverts his voice into a grating screech. “Trust me, Ethan! We will not abandon you! But we cannot help lik—”

“SHUT UP!” Dimitri snarled. Lewis caught his wrist and hauled him back, but Dimitri refused to relent and shoved himself back on his heels. “You’re lying! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!” He swept an arm out, the deranged and broken sock monster sliced through the steadily brightening gloom and connected with Lewis’ head.

In that instant the panic and screaming ceased. Lewis raised his head, somewhat dazed by an obstruction flying directly through his line of sight; and Dimitri broke from his fight to gawk up at Lewis, his small shoulders quiver in his coat. He struggles to tug his arm out of the restraining hand, but Dimitri’s efforts are subdued, he just kept staring at—

“ _Oh. Oh no._ ” Lewis raised his other hand slightly and Dimitri recoiled, his small arm was about ready to pop out of its socket. “Don’t…. Don’t be afraid.” Lewis paused, despite the noises and hissing and approaching chanting. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. “Please. Don’t— ”

“Y-you’re not human,” Dimitri whimpered. Hollowed out eye sockets gazed back, in their pits burned an unnatural light. It looked awful, painful somehow. Those… dumb sunglasses he always wore. Always. Dimitri gulped on the icy air, when he let out his breath it lingered in a thin cloud. Lewis’ breath never showed – he never slept, never ate; all these pieces he hadn’t noticed, details that were too obscure, unimportant. Until now. It all added up in one horrible congested realization.

“You’re… you’re some kind of monster.” He was prying his feet into bleached stone, as Lewis’ hold came loose. Dimitri fell onto his butt and sat there, fist digging through the frail material of the toy he clutched to his chest, like a protective totem. “That’s why? That’s why Arthur was scared?”

There was nothing Lewis could say, not safely. He didn’t get that chance either, when Vivi tore from the brush and grabbed Dimitri around his shoulders. Vivi’s gaze was not on the shaking child staring right through her, it was beyond Dimitri and on the grating shimmer of light shedding off its once brilliance. Lewis can’t see it, he doesn’t want to move. All that he can sense is Dimitri’s appalled stare, betrayed. For a moment Lewis wants to disappear, cease to be. It would be less painful than this.

“Lewis!” Vivi screams. “We have to go! Dimitri! On your feet! Wake up!” She grips Dimitri’s shoulders and shakes him. But her eyes raise to the sprite as it begins to sway, and hum.

“ _Sleep sleep sleep,_ ” it sang. Roots and tangles of branches dig into the hard earth like the many legs of a centipede, swaying to a fro at its base and up to its thicker head portion. It creeps closer to the girl in blue on its crumbling segments in a flowing wave of timber, the tail end curling out and around to bar in its intended victims. “ _Sleep child, dream of thine eternity. Leave behind thine worries, let thou—_ ” A ring of flames erupts between the sprite and its writhing nest of plant segment base, leaves ash and roots wilt back. 

The entire length of the wood sprite coils back, vines looping around the throat base and narrow chest space, where the core of its flame was nestled, protected. It expanded the surface of its structure with vines and roots leeching from the soil, and heaved its upper half high upward. “Disrespectful soul.” It twitched and coiled back around itself as it tracked Lewis’ movement. “Thine nay human!”

“No,” Lewis said. He moved himself between his ring of fire and Vivi holding Dimitri, and stood before the woods sprite watching him with its glimmering orbs fluttering through its long ‘neck’. The fire diminished by degrees, the soft fuchsia fading from the frosted surfaces of petrified rock and tangles of foliage. “Do you have a story you wish to share?” Lewis held a hand behind his back and gestured to Vivi, trying to shoo her off. She wasn’t watching him though, she was staring at the apparition as its shape shifted and molded; conducted by the forest wound about its soul.

“Protect the forest from wandering souls, tis thy tireless contract; lost shades buoyant amidst realms of null and presence, dimension and space. Lost, lingering, erroneous.” it began to sway and hum, its tightly bound vines creaking; and Lewis began to realize the voice was feminine. Patronizing and feminine. “Life then death doth make the cycle repeat, eternal and unequivocal. Then you! Your kindred violate my sanctum!”

“Isn’t that a shame.” Lewis was trying to be discrete, but Vivi was entranced. Was it the spirit, or her drive for the discovery and the supernatural, or a little of both? He backed up as the spirit swung forward, roots knotted into the base of the frigid soil, carrying its body in its malevolent advance. Staring up at it as he backed away, Lewis half expected it to lose its balance and topple over them, but the roots anchored it as it glides lower, graceful.

“Man kin comes and doth take what tis nay thou. Thieves of life, and thieves of greed. Take even what tis already thine. Wound thee deep with thine spiteful craft, but remain thou have and stay thou shalt.” It continued, curling the length of its body down to glare with the shimmering globs in its neck. It raised appendages of long branches around its head, and its midsection sunk in as it swept down in a smooth, fluid motion. 

Lewis brought his hands forward, slowly, readying his internal flame. Keep it focused on him, it didn’t like his presence. Give Vivi more time to collect herself, come out of the spell. “ _Please Vivi. Snap out of it._ ” He curled the hand behind his back into a loose fist, but he couldn’t risk a mere ember. The forest sprite edged him, was on the teeter of lunging on the slightest movement.

“The land of man kin hitherto honors the pact thou brought unto,” its bark groaned, lowly. “That thou taketh the childer to mend thy fractures. Release them back thy shalt to them. Life is not mine to take, but unto you my ire will sate.”

“Hey! HEY! Excuse me? Over here!” The spirit wrenched its head aside and up high, turning its upper half over to stare with its glimmering ‘eyes’ onto the distant side of the forest graveyard. It said nothing, only the soft rustle of leaves swayed on its back as it stared at the small figure hopping about and waving its arms, a torch beam flashed high above its shock of bright hair. “You look like you’re from around here!”

Lewis tilts his head. “Arthur?” Oh wait, this was a distraction. He gently backpedaled and leaned down near Vivi.

“I’m a little lost!” Arthur went on. He was grinning, cackling, god he was insane. “I’m looking for the nearest Pizza place? Do you know how I can get outta these woods?” He waved his good arm and signaled with the flashlight, waved the beam over towards the big whatever the fuck it was. The thing was coated in branches, and creeper vines bound its limbs together, reminiscent of veins and sinew within a body. Arthur read plenty of medical, and he’d seen… enough. It remained anchored into the frozen soil by segments, while its body curled over itself in a wave like motion alternating what sections were held down at a time; like a giant centipede or mantis.

He hated mantis men.

Timber smoldered and cinder still wavered timidly on the icy ground around Vivi, not enough to keep her trapped. Anything short of a box with no door could not hope to keep Vivi contained. On her lap lay Dimitri, fainted or put into a sleep; Lewis was frightened to dwell of what caused his swoon. Lewis edged closer to the crouched figure, though his attention does slip back to the forest sprite drifting away in its creaking, flawless momentum. “I can keep it busy. But you—”

Vivi grabbed his jacket collar and yanked him down, nearer. “Do NOT tell me to leave you! I know you can’t protect us! I know you’re gonna be the only one standing in its way! But no! No, I don’t want to hear you say those words!”

Lewis would’ve blinked. He gave an uneasy smirk instead. “Well, should I be the martyr here, and force you to run so you wouldn’t have the burden of—” He shut up when Vivi jerked him down and pressed her lips to his. Lewis raised an arm to push away, but it was Vivi. Her fevered aura singed the edges of his ethereal sense, tightening on his vague suggestion of placement. It jarred Lewis for a moment, and he let himself slump to his knees beside her. 

He wanted this to last forever. He didn’t want to leave her again. His soul couldn’t bear it. He reached a slack arm up to touch her shoulder, to feel the solidity. But Vivi pushed him away.

“Arthur. Don’t let it take Arthur,” she said. Vivi gathered Dimitri in her arms and rose to her feet. She opened her mouth, but paused from saying whatever had come to mind – last advice, words of encouragement, a selfish plea. She couldn’t bring forth the words spinning in her mind. She only gave a strained, “Please.”

Lewis slowly levitates himself. He glanced aside, tightening his fists beside him. Arthur was still screaming, giggling and off kilter; he wouldn’t last much longer. “Right,” Lewis muttered. He caught Vivi by the shoulder before she managed to dart away. Lewis unzipped his jacket and draped the coat over Dimitri, sagging in her arms. The locket at his breast coat flares softly tinted blue, holding its steady pulse, its gentle tempo in time with hers. Lewis tries not to look into Vivi’s agonized eyes, instead he kicks off backwards and shoots away with a flash of flames.

“Remember,” she called, stepping away, watching the small sputter of embers at Lewis’ heels. “We’re trying… we have to get away! Don’t forget. Don’t… lose yourself.” It was meaningless talk, though Lewis might need the reminder; he was going to be very upset. The sound of it in her voice gave her hope.

Vivi adjusts the limp bundle in her arms and pivots, diving off into the ticket. She wanted to go back, more than anything she wanted to stay. The last thought she wanted on her conscience was abandoning Lewis again.

On the furthest side of the open forest, Arthur was still rambling to the thing of the forest as it uprooted itself and moved. “It’s an acquired taste,” he went on, backing away towards the shrinking clear space on his right. It was lowering its body segments across the forest graveyard, the tail section unfurling towards the rock face; herding him until his movement would be restricted, strangled. And he didn’t want to be near the tall monoliths of timber, driving their jagged knuckles into the sky. If he saw them, the suggestion of a face in the shade of a nook, he would lose all functionality. The thought brought violent quakes to his body, Arthur could hardly stay upright.

The spirit maneuvers its shape and rolls, always segments of its body latched through roots in the earth, snapping and grinding through the ice. It began to pick up pace as Arthur lost ground, the frightened man kin was becoming anxious and edging to run before it cut him off completely. There was still room, to scrape by and dive off into the grove and hide. “And my, what big trunks you have!” He bolted, legs blurring over splintered petrified wood. Too soon too late, he hadn’t thought it through; he had only one objective to dedicate his survival to. Get away, escape. Flee.

He chanced one glance up at the woods sprite, when it gave a horrendous shriek, a cry eerily like an angry woman, lost amid the snapping of timber falling, crashing. It sounded human, once it was human, and it kept that trait through the many years it had existed. The front segments of its body spun over, snaring soil in high rolling waves. This wild motion brought it before Arthur in two of its strides; but perhaps Arthur had staggered sideways when it had lunged. The wood sprite twisted its front over in front of Arthur, roots dragging the base downward as it heaves long tangles of vines outward, toward its quarry. 

Arthur stalls and skids over his heels, he drops to his back and lashes out at the soil behind him frantically to crab crawl away. Eyes remain locked on the shrieking entity as his fingers scrap over icy, sharp rocks for a handhold, metal fingertips clacking. Roots snagged at his ankles and dragged him forward, while vines slithered around his shoulders, tightening fast to his neck—

A bright ball of sizzling fire smashed into the side of the forest sprites neck. The fire ignited and the spirit squealed, coiling down into the ice and spinning into roots and rock beside the cliff face it called dwelled within. The multiple limbs tore free from its captive, and slung the long tangles of vines around the cinder chewing at the glimmering globs in its neck. 

“Shit! Shit!” Arthur chanted as he cartwheeled over and over, fighting for stability. Roots were flying, leaves crammed into his face and dirt clouded his eyes; he was a mess of limbs, unable to pick out where the cold space of his left side and his damaged shoulder hit, but he felt the pain sear through his torso. Through the chaos a voice was screaming at him, over the murderous shrill of the spirit.

“Arthur!” The muddled figure felt his vest snagged, and the ground fell out from under him. He couldn’t see through the swirling grit but suddenly Arthur was airborne. “Out of the way!”

Lewis spun out of the toss unconcerned with where Arthur might come down, as long as he was far out of range. The woods spirit spun over as coals cracked and fell from what Lewis decided was a neck. Its whole construction was not living, it had no organs that could be wounded critically. What consisted of its body was a shell knotted over its luminous core, enabling it to rise fifteen or more feet high, as it did now.

“Desecrate thy sanctuary,” the spirit howls. Already vines wind over the damaged kindling, reinforcing the weakened structure. “There is only one penalty for thine ilk.” But it doesn’t descend onto Lewis, not yet. It dithers back and turns the side of its head away scanning through the edge of the grove, presumably seeking the other members of his group. Fire ignites over Lewis’ fists as he launches at its base, delivering a sizzling wave of flames across its roots. The air fills with thick gray smoke, and the spirit of the woods wails as it is brought back to the forefront of his presence. Leaves rustle along its back in frenzy as it tilts, several of its pliant arms lash out when Lewis retreats around its side; fuchsia and red flames flash across Lewis face, until the bleached skull is cleansed and revealed. Momentarily, the forest sprite is static, the lengths of its vines curling back into the flint littered soil beneath it.

The woods sprite was not the only one distracted. As Lewis skied back across the field, adjacent to the path the others would have taken, he turned his flickering skull to check the cocoon of vines within the dark canopy high above. He could count one, two, at least seven children… plus one more. All asleep, each unaware, spirited away from their warm homes, their families.

A sudden mass of roots snag his ankle, burrowing into his sub-solidity of his leg before he has a chance to fade through. The forest sprite drags itself towards Lewis, while at the same time the roots beneath it twist around at the soil level and fling Lewis against the base of the ancient trees. The roots remain fixed within his leg, while more cluster and spread up over his thighs and chest, twisting through Lewis’ ribcage. 

The dapper ghost manages to keep his translucent arms free and bring them close to his chest, shielding his glimmering locket from the invasive plant coils. It didn’t hurt per se, but the sensation of matter burrowing through his incorporeal suggestion was unsettling (that was an understatement). And Lewis feared there was a method of harm that it could implement that he was not yet aware of. He could do without the lesson.

The locket on his chest escalated its tempo, blues and gold pulsing, mingled over the silver glitter encrusted roots tightening on and through his form. The cool colors soon blaze with a vibrant gold and red, magenta spills from Lewis’ suit collar, his ribs are swept with a flash of fire, black soot scatters outward in a thick wave. The plant fibers are engulfed with thick smog and wither, scorched by the ravenous lashing flames. Clumps of ash ignites from Lewis suit as he thrusts his arms outward, snapping the thicker coils that remained latched into him. The displaced cinder takes flight and scatters, some catching to the brittle kindling of the old trees lowest hanging branches.

The wood sprite gives a shriek. Not from the damage inflected to its segments, but twists its neck to view the flames spreading to its craft above. “Vandal!”

“It’s not like I want to be HERE!” With a sharp kick to the ground Lewis raises himself several feet, one hand plastered over the dully flutter of his gilded locket. The sprite lashes its upper segment high intending to intercept Lewis’ movement, but it reconsiders its pursuit at a sudden flash of crackling fire swept out from Lewis’ coat sleeve; a formidable barrier cast midair. With that arm extended to the forest sprite, Lewis raises the other hand and swept fresh wisps of flame onto his lost fire. Once the spark wisps settle over the spirit fire, he grips his fist and draws his arm back. The flames along the vines and tree canopy extinguish, and Lewis lets himself drift downward as his shield scatters into a puff of colorful mist.

One flame in his skull goes out.

“Scandalous!” The wood sprite shrieks. With the barrier gone it moves on Lewis, as Lewis skits away across soil backwards, sparks glittering at his heels, steam coughing up from melting frost. The wood sprite descends after Lewis, the base of its structure digging and snapping roots through the soil, its body moving in a wave across the clearing. “Fiend! Wraith!” A nest of vines from the thickets edge lunge out the moment Lewis is within reach, snagging his suit and legs. A quick burst of flames ignites down Lewis’ back, freeing him from the hold. Light flashes within Lewis eye sockets as he propels himself at the wood sprite, directly on level with the thick armor of its lowered torso. Flames surge from his knuckles, Lewis slams his palms to its layers of vines twisted around its core. “Destroyer!” The forest spirit howls as it recoils and twists down, coils of roots from the icy soil tear forth to loop over the spreading fire. Lewis adjusts his midair posture and forces flames from his sleeve cuffs; his eye sockets flash out, turn black. From the grove more vines shoot, snaring Lewis by his torso and haul him off of the master. “Slay my children!”

Fire gushes from Lewis’ collar, obliterating the coils digging through his suit edges. “They’re not YOURS!” They’re far enough from the canopy that he can risk throwing himself at its head region, and Lewis digs his claws into a set of the bright globes in its throat. The thing stalls and shakes, leaves and soot coughs up as it rolls over and down into the icy crust of the soil. The roots that build up along the wood sprites arms snap out, binding through Lewis and wretch the flaming ghost off. “Let them go!”

“Not by thou command, wayward soul.” The wood sprite jerks away from Lewis, smothering its long shape down into the soil as fires and black smoke bellow forth on the cold air. Lewis is a wild blaze as he scorches at the knots of roots tangling through him, fighting to reach the momentarily stunned sprite of the forest as it knots its body into the toothy soil, the lights in its neck glowering. A mass of vines tear from the high canopy and snare Lewis back, drag him high and whips the dapper ghost skyward at its end.

It’s too high, and Lewis lets loose a piercing shriek as he ignites an inferno of fire across his suit and skull, shredding out a large spherical circumference around himself; a trail of black flakes follows his rapid descent. When Lewis comes down within the shelter of the canopy, he alights on a sturdy branch and crouches for a moment; not balanced precisely on the branch, but hovering and using its permanence to keep his form stable. Lewis raises a hand and inspects the gray wisps of his glove, drifting off in a scarce breeze. Most of the knuckle is exposed in his hand, but that isn’t his concern.

The forest sprite throws itself into the thicket, moving along the branches and vines dangling, pulling its large shape towards Lewis as he waits. At the moment it reaches him, Lewis ducks aside and presses a palm blazing with sizzling flames onto its head. He holds onto the sprite by digging one hand through its vines, his fire infused palm punches through its blackened skull. A cloud of soot rises, but not all of it is from the shrieking mass twisting about in the canopy.

There’s no advantage to the scheme, the sprite’s body snaps the branches and vines tangled into its mass as it spasms; it and Lewis go crashing to the forest floor. Ice flurries upset from their branches drift down with clumps of mud, along with smoldering leaves from the sprites body. As Lewis wrestles to get his shape insubstantial or rip himself from the constricting thing, he presses fire and more untamed heat into what should be the sprites shattered skull; his other hand is pressed across his chest defending his locket from the feral battering of the sprite as it struggles away from the fire.

What neither spirit has yet to notice is that they are the only ones in the thicket. All other members had fled, and Lewis was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all that, Dimitri still doesn't know that Lewis is a ghost.
> 
> Anyway. Ghost battle deluxe. I think the sprite is over powered. No, I don't know what the hell its supposed to be. Annoying knot. The theme of this chapter has been knots.


	24. Chapter 24

 

  **Ash Lingers**

The tracks were obvious, how could he not have noticed them first? But he was a dog, maybe it was just instinct versus rational. Tracking in the cold was impossible, his nose was numb and the frost bit into his sinuses, but he was making good time now that he sought the signs in the thin crust of ice. He galloped over twisted roots and zipped through brittle shrubs, flurries catching on the tips of his ears whip around in his passing. Of course they would be fine, Lewis was there, if not Vivi was quite capable of taking care of everyone. He was sure.

Mystery skid on his front palms and raised his head high, ears aimed forward, twitching. Sounds, heavy breath, wheezing. Someone running in a panic, feet crunching on the soil. The voice could be Vivi. He gave a bark and charged off, adjusting his course for the direction of the escalating disturbance. They lost the path, racing through the forest in a mad panic. There would be no time for explanations, he need to decide what possible scenarios could have come about. He was beginning to fear the worse.

Danger. Something old, powerful. Something unforeseen. All of this didn’t help.

“Mystery!” A voice shot from the dark, obstructed by the surrounding trees. The hound dug his back legs into the soft mulch, twisting over, and charged straight towards the sounds. “What happened? You were supposed to watch him!” Vivi carried a bundle in her arms, bound up in Lewis’ jacket. Bad, this was bad.

The dog snorted as he trotted the last few feet, and glanced beyond Vivi through the mirage of blue-silver and shrouds. Well, I’m here now. He looked at Vivi, barked, and lowered down on his front legs to bristle his fur. What has happened? Where IS Arthur? You didn’t leave him behind—

From the shrubs stumbled a yellow streak caught up in thin vines and leaves, half blinded by foliage and lack of light. A leg nearly kicked into Mystery’s side and the figure went down hard, skidding several feet over root clusters hidden by frost. Everything settled soon after, some ash and leaves remained clinging to Arthur’s bright orange vest. Both stare.

Well…. Mystery sat down, and raised a paw to fix a bent ear. I won’t ask.

“Are you hurt?” Vivi snapped, and Arthur mumbled something about pizza. Vivi didn’t catch it, maybe Arthur had been moaning and she imagined it. She stepped aside to set Dimitri down between a bundle of roots vacant enough of ice, then stooped low beside Arthur. She hesitated to reach out and touch Arthur, but managed to persuade herself to set a hand on his bad shoulder. “Where’s Lewis? He wasn’t behind you?” Vivi raised her gaze to the endless rows of trees and tangled dark stretching beyond; her eyes seeking bright sparks, a familiar ghost racing head-on out of the reach of a vehement disaster. She’d already said it herself, she knew Lewis’ options had been restricted, but she didn’t want to concede that she had been right. “Did we just leave him like that? Did we?”

“Jeez,” Arthur mumbled, as he pulled himself up. He crouched on his knees among the brittle leaves, and reached up to snag the cloth of Vivi’s coat. It was hard to see, neither of them had managed to salvage a torch he realized. He could only imagine her face now. “No. I… There was nothing I could do! That thing went after him! Vi… he pissed it off real bad.” As he spoke, his voice quivered. Vivi had that dawning horror in her eyes, and he had no way of assembling a shabby voice of encouragement. “I would’ve stayed, honest, but I was in the way! I thought he was gunna be right behind me, I swear. I didn‘t… I didn‘t look back!” He cringed, and brought the soft wristband of his metal arm to his brow. He tries not to shake too hard, he can barely hang onto Vivi. “I thought he would follow. I thought…. One I was gone— I’m telling you! ”

“You did all you could.” Vivi tightens her grip on his shoulder and bows down, close to his eye level. “You did enough. I couldn‘t expect any more from you.”

The words were meant to reaffirm his actions, but they hurt. As if she didn’t expect him to do anything but run. But what else could he have done, performed another Classic H style distraction? That was all he was good for in a pinch.

“W-what… happen?” All three turn as Dimitri stirs, eyes blinking at the dark as he raised his head. His movement was sluggish but he was coming to, quickly. “Where am I? How— ” He sat bolt upright out of the coat. “What’d I do?”

“Whoa there, sport.” Vivi sprang over to crouch by the muddled boy, and drew the sides of the jacket around his shoulders. “You had a nasty fall. The ground around here is slick, and— ” She jerked her arms back when Dimitri shoved at her.

“Don’t give me that! I know what I saw!” The boy looked away to his lap where he clutched a shredded toy, its torso splint and tangles of roots spilling out. “Don’t lie to me.”

Vivi pulled her fists up to the scarf looped about her neck and gripped the soft material. What to say, what to say? “No one’s trying to lie to you,” she murmured. “I was worried you would be scared or… confused, you’ve suffered a terrible shock.”

“Why?” Dimitri lashed at her. He bowed his head forward and hunched his shoulders under the jacket. It was so cold. “Because your friend’s some kind of monster?” He cringed at his own words. This was Lewis he was talking about. Lewis. The guy that liked alpacas, and read him scary stories during the long stretches of desolate road, or played games with him to help pass the time. The one person that had been there when the others had… lost themselves. And he… he wasn’t human.

Arthur raised his flesh arm to his shoulder and rubbed at the stiff skin. “Harsh man. That’s harsh.”

Vivi motioned Arthur to keep quiet, and turned back to Dimitri. “No,” she says, her voice low it was barely a whisper. “Because… I know what you saw in that clearing. The tree. We… we didn’t expect that, and… I don’t know what to do.” Vivi leaned towards Dimitri and put her arms around his shoulders. “We’ll find a way. We haven‘t given up yet.” Dimitri slumped into her arms, but didn’t raise his hands from the toy he clutched. Vivi hugged him tightly and shut her eyes. “I’ll be okay. We haven’t even started yet. Right?” Dimitri mumbled something into her shoulder and shook his head.

Mystery glanced between Vivi and Dimitri, then to Arthur. A piece of twine remained tethered around the paw he raised to his snout, he yips gently.

“You’re right,” Arthur says. He turns to the vague direction they had rushed from, his breath mists as he exhales a lungful of warm air. He felt better, clearer now with the distance from the sprite and its forest grave. There was no indication that it was still active and fighting Lewis, no wild explosions; just the uneasy stillness of a cold winter night. Despite the lack of moving air the forest around them groans and its leave litter rustles impatiently, as if the woods were reshaping, reforming, secluding its secrets from the intruders.

Time was a concept this place evicted.

“Lewis!” Arthur called. He cupped his hands around his mouth and tries again. Arthur’s voice snapped and he fell into dry hacks.

“He’s in trouble,” Vivi states, as she stands. “I have some supplies…. Art, take Dimitri back to the van.”

“No-no.” Arthur shook his head and held out his hand. “I’ll go back. I’m the better candidate.” Vivi snared his shoulder and held onto Arthur before he could vanish into the woods. Not on her watch.

Dimitri and Mystery looked back and forth between the two as they argued. Arthur was very expressive with his arms, even if the prosthetic was substandard when he became anxious. The whole time Vivi absolutely would not release Arthur’s arm, and she was snarling at him. “Does this happen a lot during a crisis?” Dimitri murmured

Mystery ‘ruffs’. It’s a requirement.

“And then what?” Vivi hissed back, at the crescendo of their bickering. Her hand had slipped while Arthur jerked around in her grip, and now she was only latched to the shoulder strap of his backpack. “What’s your plan? Are you gonna talk it to death?”

“I just might!” Arthur yelped. He pulled back and grabbed Vivi’s hand, trying to loosen her grip. “Damnit, could you just… have some faith in me for once! I know I’m the last person... I know— !” He slapped a hand over Vivi’s mouth before she starts the tirade all over. “It’s Lewis, or me.” Vivi glared over Arthur’s arm for a second. Her eyes dart aside, and she sighed through her nose. Gently, she pulled Arthur’s hand away.

“Mystery. Make sure he doesn‘t do anything reckless.” Mystery gave a soft yip and took off, dashing by Arthur in a blind race. Arthur gave a cry as he pivoted and gave chase of the hound:

“You don’t know the way!”

“Can you stand?” Vivi says, when she returns to Dimitri.

“Yeah.” Dimitri drew his feet up under himself then rocked to rise, and Vivi kneeled down with an arm out in case he needed help. When supplied his weight his legs gave out, and Vivi had to snare him by the arm before he could fall into the dirt. “My legs. What’s wrong with me?”

“You woke up,” Vivi supplied. She adjusted the jacket around his shoulders and heaved Dimitri up off the frigid ground. “You should be fine. The influence, I don’t know what to call it - it must be working out of you. I hoped you just fainted, but I… that had been my hope.” She jogged off downhill, placing trust in her stern sense of direction to guide here from the woods. If they were enchanted or drenched in a haze of power that repelled trespassers, she could only hope that this power for the time was diverted.

As she hurried away, Vivi would feel a pressing need to spin about and check through forest, search for indication that their panic was premature; some small glimmer of fire as Lewis and the others raced out to safety. The oppressive winter lull swelled thicker and deeper with every yard she stacked between her and the direction she had retreated from.

 

Fire gushes and leaves scatter, plumes of embers gleam through the cold air as tree limbs moaned in their efforts to reach out, hold and take.

In hindsight, diving into the grove had been a terrible mistake. It was made worse by the reoccurring understanding that escape was within his grasp, he need only… reach for it. What was stopping him? Why couldn’t he do it?

Too much was going on for Lewis to keep track. From every side he was assaulted by vines and roots, snatching out at his corporal form as he ducked and weaved. The wood grove was thick with ancient trees, Lewis couldn’t fluctuate between insoluble and produce fire to meet the demands of his attacker, half the time he kept his locket shielded by an arm. He skipped and dove low to the soil, spreading cinder at the reaching tree limbs. And the roots! He hadn’t decided precisely what it was they did whenever they tore into his suit, but it couldn’t be allowed.

“Thou take, but doth nay give back. Thou fit nay hitherto the pillar of existence.” The forest spirit crashed through trees, carried by thick vines that swung it low and launched it high, above the flames Lewis spread through the brush. It had shed layers and segments of its once intimidating form, in order for it to navigate effortlessly through the thicket to pursue the dapper ghost. With the whole of the forest at its command it need no extra arms to detain Lewis, or move close and risk the flames scorching at its carapace. “ _“Let thee help thou, lost soul,_ ” it hummed, the branches rasp, leaves rustling. “ _Let thee help thou._ ”

“I do not! Do not NEED any help!” A low hanging branch swept out at his back, tangling with Lewis’ dress coat as he rose from the soil. The branch tethers him as vines wind down snagging his shoulders and snap the ghost backwards. Lewis shoves a hand over his locket, holding it to his chest as he digs his feet into the frozen earth. A wave of soot huffs from his collar and Lewis ignites flames from his ribs. While vines shatter and branches coil back, Lewis spreads more cinder onto his unaccounted flames and sweeps an arm out; the lost fire snuffs out from the branches. Lewis pivots on his heel, kicking back as more vines slice out for him; his skull spins upon his shoulders searching the thicket, occasionally he glances up.

Punch through the canopy, gain distance; the wood sprites reach is purely physical, shackled to the forest, its sanctuary. But he… can’t. Lewis is as grounded to the earth as his soul is anchored by the locket at his chest.

Low branches curl inward, twisting around him with slithering vines binding, caging. A burst of flames flashes from Lewis coat, another opening crackling with embers and sizzling coals but the forest has no end. A thick cloud of ash rises from his coat as he snags, roots rip forth from ice encrusted soil coiling at his ankles; some of these clumps eerily resemble gnarled hands as they tighten. Lewis cups his fists together and heaves his form down, a wave of fire shoots out from where his fists slam upon the soil. The heat vaporizes the nearest plant matter, black char stretches over the soil and timber crackles with glittering fuchsia.

Vines persist to lash out, stabbing at the coat collar as Lewis throws himself back against a tree trunk. “Would you just… y‘know, blink or something?” He slips down backwards, beneath a tangle of vines that lash out and twist over the trunk. “I’m… trying to leave! Just let me go!”

The wood spirit glides between the branches of the lower canopy, and as Lewis watched he realized that the vines that moved it did so by exchanging out its exoskeleton, effectively rebuilding it layer by layer upon its constant mobility. That small fragment of knowledge, though obvious as it should have been from the beginning, made his consciousness sink deeper.

“ _Seek peace,_ ” it crooned, descending towards Lewis segment by segment. “I can see through you, soul. You seek fulfillment, a resolution.” The forest sprite screeches when a bright flash of fire tears through the lower portion of its exposed body, its thinned body. A swell of black smog rises from its carapace and the sprite crashes to the forest ground, it twists itself into a tight knot and work bundles of vines over its sputtering, blackened shell. The earth cracks beneath it, and a nest of roots rip forth in heavy bundles for the fires coordinator.

Lewis zipped away and dodged the reach behind the tree trunk he had dropped beside. He pressed one hand over his pulsing locket and kicked away, flames popping at his heels as he glides beyond the reach of unearthed roots. Flames ignited from his wrist collar, catching over reaching branches snagging at his shoulder. The forest sprite continues to wail out, trees quiver as it knocks about either struggling to replace its damaged shell or fighting to pull its girth back into the canopy.

Briefly, Lewis glimpses his surroundings as he coasts away. The further from the entity, the less animate the forest was. He glances at the bits of ash flaking from his shoulder, but is distracted by a shadow draped over the blue ice he propels over.

The wood sprite launched its body above, through the branches of the canopy and down onto Lewis. A wall of flames greets its assault forcing its recoil from the harsh fire, and it withers into the soil like a blackened weed stalk. Roots are torn up by its violent thrashing, these are braced over the smoldering pieces of its body until the embers are extinguished.

For a moment the wood sprite relents its onslaught and keeps immobile, the glimmering spaces in its neck turn to Lewis as he drifts back slowly. Small wisps of bright embers follow at Lewis’ shoulders, as does the dark dust drifting from his suit. His heel catches on a root and Lewis settles on the earth, he falters to his side but stays upright and rests a hand over his locket.

“You prolong the inevitable,” the spirit of the woods says. The soil cracks and roots slip free around Lewis’ feet, slithering to the heels of the dapper ghost. “Why do this?” It hesitates at the flames puffing from Lewis’ coat collar.

“You don’t know me.” Lewis scattered embers at his toes, and the roots withdraw by an inch. Carefully, Lewis begins to move back step by step, slowly. “Once a long time ago, what were you? You… don’t remember?”

The wood spirit uncoiled the segments of its body and whipped around, before Lewis can launch himself away. Coils of its vines pin Lewis down and wind into his backside, roots from the soil stab into his shoulders. Lewis manages to force himself to his knees and holds himself there, as fire sputters in his suit color. None lethal frantic puffs of colorful smoke and soot. The wood sprite curls itself around and flips its head portion over, to peer at Lewis. “What medium would thou have of thy memories?”

A calamity of hysterical barking bursts from the nearest brush, and a silver streak tears into the vine coils digging into Lewis’ shape. Mystery gives a fierce growl as his teeth tears into the dusty bark, he anchors himself by his fangs and claws as the coils lurch.

The spirit of the forest does not release Lewis, but squeals as it whips around. Loops of creepers from beneath the canopy wind it up, while vines across the broken soil begin to coil about Mystery’s snout and middle body. Mystery yelps as his teeth tear free, his arms tug out as his claws remain snared on the vines he had been gnawing on. Coils tighten around his chest, the vines wrap over his snout and head constricting.

“Don’t you DARE!” The creepers disintegrate when Lewis burns through them, wild fire drenched his hands. He glimpsed Mystery when the timber cracks and ashes away; the dog gave him that familiar look, red eyes gleaming behind the spectacles as the dog descended to the ruined soil. Mystery didn’t seem frazzled at all. As soon as he hit the forest floor, he spun away and vanished into a clump of charred brush.

It must be somewhere, he can sense it nearby. Mystery sprints across the field of petrified trees, only slowing his steps as he nears the ancient edifice that the massive trees cower beneath. There it is, above. Mystery stares up at the network of locked vines, a deep frown sets into his face. The children didn’t deserve this.

“Back here!” Lewis slammed his palms into the vines that built up the exoskeletons base pressing every ounce of his spirit fire into its shell, his eye sockets flashed bright with flames. “I’m the one you’re fighting.” The forest sprite twists away, and slung out with a bundle of its branches to tangle in Lewis’ suit and ribs. Lewis shot backwards, a burst of fire pulsed off his suit scorching the grasping coils.

Lewis doesn’t check where he’s gliding towards, he’s gathering distance from the entity while he can. He blazes through a curtain of branch tangled creepers and crashes among the fresh frost and roots of the soil. A flurry of cinder spirals around his shape, intermixed with the black fuzz of ash. For a moment he hovers, staring at the crisp night sky through the canopy; already vines stretch over blotting out the twinkling stars. To what point, he wondered. Lewis eased himself over and struggles to rise, lift off from the earth and escape the hissing ends of roots already poking through the soil.

Rapid foots steps crashed into the thicket and scrape to a stop near the dapper ghost. “Shit!” Arthur’s voice. “Lewis, you’re— ”

“Didn’t I tell you,” Lewis snarled, tried to. His voice was thin and hollow, as if barely clinging to the breeze. “I told you to get lost.” Lewis coaxed his form upright and moved his legs beneath his body, as he lowers. “Dangerous.”

“Yeah?” Arthur hobbled forward – hesitates when Lewis’ skull swiveled his way. Arthurs ran a hand over his hair, and then thrust his arms out to grab the ghost by his suit lapels. “S-since when is listening to you a priority?” Lewis isn’t heavy but he drags, his shape resisting movement, unable to move under the same jurisdiction as solid mass; or maybe it was all in Arthur’s head. “C’mon Lew, you can still walk!”

“It’s such a task.” Lewis drifts after Arthur’s insistence, his arms hover near his locket unsure of what to do with them as Arthur forces him along. He spins his skull back as the rasping lump of vines crashes between the tree branches, the wood sprite continues to wind coils of creepers into the charcoal of its shell. If its focus hadn’t been diverted, the entity would have been upon them long ago.

The branches curved and carried it, intermingling through its carapace to hasten the exchange of damaged kindling while simultaneously keeping it mobile and suspended from range. It spasms when the head portion cocked, the bright globes along its neck glint in the moonlight as it locks onto the dark eye sockets of Lewis’ skull. The wood sprite slings its body down, in the soil below roots are twisting forth from the crust of frost.

“Art’ur, you….” Arthur gives a sharp squeal as Lewis grabs him by the neck and shoves him down, away from a clump of roots. “Down!” Flames burst across Lewis’ backside, as he slams a set of claws into the soil. A spiral of fire races around Lewis’ conducted circumference, shredding through the quivering plant matter. The locket sparks and fades from Lewis coat front, as the ghost drops his skull seeking with his fire; omitting, and targeting the core. Arthur goes limp under his palm. Lewis ignores him, the same as he ignores the black soot.

A jagged knife of flames blazes vertically from the icy floor around the edge of his spiraling flames. The roots and soil locked beneath the forest sprite erupt and sizzle, a thunder clap ignites on the shocked cold air. The inferno of fire zigzags up the center of the entities torso and throat, splinting the carapace shell into two jagged halves while is hangs in midair. The wounded spirit buckles and gives a wail that dies out in the same instant it was unleashed, the resonance of it steeps down into a ragged wheeze. Its eyes glimmered out one by one as its body begins to crumble into ash, and at the center of the coals is the turquoise translucent. The wood sprites soul glitters with starry beads, intermixed with blue-silver moon beams through its liquid mirage. Briefly, the dew and beads sparkle keenly one last time, then, shatter into vapor amid a cloud of black ash and embers. 

The wild fire that had engulfed Lewis’ eye sockets evaporates a moment after, and the dark woods beneath the canopy are overtaken by a suffocating silence. His skull remains bare of recognition; he is a skull and a suit, a suit that is quickly decaying.

“Ssssafe.” It’s not tired he feels. Lewis lacks the body that would grow weary or need rest, he is absent of muscles and blood that would provide his being a sustaining mass that once he owned in life. What he is a consciousness, and it is clarity that begins to fail him first. A lack of sense and presence of this ‘being’. That is how he would describe it. It was the closets notion he felt to peace.

“The… the hell!” Arthur croaked, as he struggled to pry Lewis’ hand off his throat. Arthur struggles to get himself back on his feet, he can’t drag his eyes off the heap of ash smoldering on the frigid slush. He just sits there, Lewis hovering beside him – dipping sideways, all for the world looking like a stunned fish. Arthur was hesitant to move, his arms quiver beside him, even the hand that kept latched to Lewis pants leg. The heat was fading fast, what remained of the forest sprite was dissolving into a layer of thin cinder, the edges soaking into the fresh mud. Arthur coughs on the tart air as he turns to the spirit hovering, dazed. “We weren’t— Lew! That wasn’t part of the plan! Lewis?” Then Lewis does something Arthur doesn’t understand. “You okay? Hey.” Arthur quickly springs upright and stands back, as Lewis lowers to his feet. And falters. Wobbles.

“I don’t….” Lewis begins. Arthur stares at his torso and sides, and Lewis knows why. Lewis reaches a hand up for the locket, the distortion becoming worse when he realizes it's not where it must be.  But it's there, it has to be.  He sheilds the pseudo metal with bleached bone, and tugs it substance forth from smoky air. “I don’t feel right.”

The skull seems barely able to stay suspended above the suit collar, and Arthur has to take the coat lapels of the suit to keep Lewis upright. He gives Lewis a frail shake. “How’s a ghost supposed to feel?” Arthur mutters. “Lew? Talk to me! Screech or… anything! You’re scaring me!” Arthur isn’t sure if he should, but he does try to move Lewis’ hand away from where he knows the locket should be.

“I’m a little— ” He grips Arthur’s arm. That’s the bad one, isn’t it? Lewis grips the wrist of the prosthetic. The locket pulses its constant hum under his palm, its texture tarnished, transparent; it echos his stability with its muffled thrumming. Lewis pulls the side of his arm to shield his torso, where bleached ribs have been exposed through the dark ash of his suit; flakes fall away; losing more and more of himself. “Distant. Fading. Art, I— ”

Arthur gave up, and hauled Lewis over his good shoulder and let the ghost sag. This time he feels the weight. “Hold on,” Arthur pleads. “We’ll get back to the van. Just stay with me. Don‘t do this. Don‘t. Not here!” He pulls Lewis’ free arm across his chest and braces his arm over the empty sleeve, that way he can… he could grip the edge of the crisp white collar beneath the skull. Arthur snaps his hand back, there is literally nothing under that suit. But Arthur’s stuffs the thought aside, he’s wasting too much time. He grips the shirt collar and distributes the weight to the best of his ability. Arthur hesitates to refer to it as… deadweight. The skull dips forward and Lewis’ tightens his grip on Arthur’s wrist. “You gotta work with me here, Lew! This isn‘t the place! It’s not the time!” Arthur gets angry as he begins to walk, it’s not difficult but Lewis isn’t helping. “You can‘t do that to Vivi! She‘s waiting— !”

Then Lewis and the soft somewhat distant thud-thump of the locket are gone. No sparks, no nothing, just gone. Arthur blinks and gapes at the cold, open air at his shoulder, where a minute prior was occupied by Lewis. Before Arthur can properly register the sudden absence, he falls face first into the muddy slush.

  

 

__

What came first was the cold. It penetrated his bones and seeped into his muscles, it lingered at the edges of his skin as he mindlessly reached out for a bright light. Sounds were muffled by depth. They weren’t even sounds, more like heavy vibrations blundering around his head, and the steady beating of his heart.

What happened? Where am I?

Arthur vaguely remembered fire, smoke, cinder, screaming. His head full of screeching. Someone was screaming at him.

“Art! Art! Come back! Art!” It was Lewis, trying to put motion back into his lungs. Oh god, his head ached. The thick smell of blood hung on the air, and the scent of it made his stomach twist on itself. “Wake up! Please!”

The voice was no longer Lewis’, it was Vivi. Arthur blinked his eyes at the girl as she kneeled over him, doing something to his chest. His body was in pain, sharp needles nibbling through his joints. When he moved a new swell of agony ripped through his veins, and Arthur was soon pitched over vomiting.

Vivi kept beside him, an arm slung under his chest as he heaves into the crystallized earth. “Shit,” she choked. “Oh my… dis, you stopped breathing. I thought you were lost.” She held onto Arthur as he spat. “Take it easy, slow, shallow breaths. Give yourself a chance to recover.” She adjusts the torch braced at his shoulder, to angle it away from them.

Arthur groaned as he leaned back on his side. Vivi pulled him by his vest, away from the foul mess. “Feels like a truck hit me.” He raised a cold metal arm to his forehead and took another deep, careful breath. Indeed, it felt as if his bones were knitting and his muscles were layered in old scars. It was so similar…. “Lew’s. Where?”

“I don’t know,” Vivi murmured. She placed a hand to Arthur’s forehead and smoothed his hair down. Arthur set his eyes on her hand holding the torch handle, something was wrapped in her fingers that glittered. A chain. Soon though, Vivi’s attention slipped off him and she regarded the blackened soil coated in ash, gray mist was rising from shattered chunks of bark. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Embers, cinder, the forest sprite squealing as it was hacked in two. Arthur shuddered.

“Vi. He….” Arthur didn’t want to let on what happened, what very well could have happened.

“ _I sometimes need distance._ ”

“How’s Dimitri holdin’ up?” Arthur sat up a bit more, and Vivi helped him stay upright. The moon had tracked far across the sky, was nearly out of sight beyond the tallest most trees that formed the canopy. Evidence of the struggle lay across the soil in shattered vines, sizzling coals, and dry mud tinged by the edges of ice chunks. It was difficult for Arthur to make out where he had dropped. His head hurt like nothing he ever felt, but that didn’t surprise him. He sat shaking violently, and could hardly wrap his arms around his middle. Nothing helped.

“He’s recovered, more or less,” Vivi answered. She slung off her backpack and rummaged around within, until she brought out some kind of cloth. Smelt like medical gauze. Arthur winced when she pressed it to his head. He could see what was twisted over her fingers, it was the chain and the rock. The one Vivi had carved for Dimitri. “Your bleeding stopped. We need to get you back to the van.” As she helped Arthur to his feet, Arthur reached out to touch protection talisman. The most his mind could manage was touching it, and when Vivi saw him grip the stone she tensed and blurted, “The kids!”

“Hmm?” Arthur wobbled, and felt the nausea like a hot weight in his throat. Vivi guides him to the side of a tree, its bark torn and blackened. Arthur focused his blurring vision on the blocky alligator texture of its surface in the yellow beam of the torch. He thought his flashlight was lost. Why did she have Dimitri’s totem? So many questions, they swirled in a thick film drowning his thoughts. “What kids? Are they… they’re safe?” Lewis had done the complete opposite of what they had been trying to pull off, the thought of made Arthur sick all over.

“I had to leave him and the others at the van,” Vivi elaborated, in a most creative way. That was a relief, though Arthur’s mind was foggy concerning who exactly these kids were. Vivi was going too fast. “Mystery came back with every one of them.” Then her voice faded, and she glanced from Arthur to examine the evidence. She skimmed her light slowly over the ruptured creeper vines, ashy remains of leaves. “Did Lewis… nullify the hostile?”

Arthur leaned heavily on the tree and tries to nod. “I don’t know if it’s gone for good,” he wheezed, and coughed a bit. The chill was rough in his burning throat, he must’ve been passed out a good while. He stopped breathing. “Has to be. If I were it, I would’ve booked it too.” He didn’t care how his words would be taken, he couldn’t care. He wanted to get out of the cold and lie down. “I’m not in hot shape,” he mumbled. “I don’t think I can—” Arthur shut his mouth when Vivi heaved his body up over her shoulder and hauled him off, the toes of his shoes kicking against ashy rock as she ran, panting. Why was she so strong?

“Hang in there Art. I know you hit your head pretty hard, but try not to grease me.” Vivi fixed the backpack straps on her shoulders and began hiking off through the thicket. “I wouldn’t blame you, but try and give me warning?”

“Yeah,” Arthur burbled. It was only a mile or something back, he could hold out. Arthur hung his head as Vivi carted him over her shoulder, his own backpack dug into his side. “Vi,” he said. “I’m sor— ”

“We have to hurry,” she states, eyes fixed forward. “Whatever the spirit used to preserve those kids, it’ll be wearing off and none of them are dressed for the cold. Mystery’s doing all he can.”

Arthur sighed. “He’s a good dog.”

By the time Vivi had reached the cinder block wall that segregated the wild forest and the cultured zone of man’s domain, Arthur was nearly able to walk on his own. His body just couldn’t take her shoulder digging into his abdomen, and Vivi let him down and eased the weight of his body over her shoulder.

Ten children plus Dimitri sat in the back of the van, huddled in blankets and with each other. Mystery was in their midst, watching as Vivi loaded Arthur in. Dimitri hardly looked up from hugging one of the boys, probably his brother, dressed in Powerpuff pajamas. The smaller boy doesn’t look all there, but he’s talking and asking questions.

“Who’s he?” the thin, little voice says. In his hands he clutches the ugly, splint sock monster as if it is his lifeline

“A friend,” Dimitri murmurs. Lewis jacket was draped over the two boys, and Dimitri pulled the frayed edges of the jacket around his brother. He glanced up at Arthur as he staggers by. No words pass between them, and Dimitri hugs his brother a little tighter.

The door of the van creaked shut as Vivi climbed in. Arthur limped his way around the kids and joined her at the front, leaning over the bench seat. “What we do?” he asked, crossing his arms over the seats back and laying his chin on them. He let his head tilt and hang, his eyes gazed out at the streetlamps burning blurrily in the hazy cold air. Stars and glitter, he couldn’t get those images out of his head.

For a long moment Vivi is silent, and Arthur waits. She hunted around for the key, until Arthur managed to slip off his backpack and dug around in its interior. She went ahead and started the engine and began driving. The creeping edges of soft blues mingled in the distant horizon, above hills and mountains of a far off terrain. Vivi rubbed at her eyes, and poked at a dirty Styrofoam cup in the cup holder.

“We’ll leave the kids at Dimitri’s house,” she says, at long last. Arthur watched as her knuckles tighten over the steering wheel. He wanted to say nothing, but he was afraid to speak up. Vivi was too strong for her own good. “I don’t know how long the influence of the sprite will last, if its broken now. We’ll have to call out some Demonologists to check the area, make certain.”

It hurt to still consider the case a failure after what they had been through. It wouldn’t be the first time. Lewis could still be there lost or waiting, there was really no telling. Once they were recovered, they would return to look for him. The state that he and Vivi were in now, they couldn’t risk it. Going back was a bad gamble too, if it was still waiting, weakened. It was going to be a struggle for Arthur to keep Vivi from rushing off once the kids were safe.

“We were so unprepared,” she muttered, and leaned forward onto the steering wheel. Vivi kept her eyes fixed on the road; traffic was nonexistent. Arthur would’ve offered to drive, but he was in no condition. “I had hoped we’d learned.”

“We didn’t know,” Arthur spoke. He reached his metal arm over and set his hand on her shoulder.

“You said, and I— ”

“Fuck what I said,” Arthur snapped. He winced, partly from the sudden tension digging through his skull, but mostly he didn’t mean to shout. In front of the stunned kids. He listened a moment as Dimitri’s brother made irrelevant inquiry, and Dimitri answered each concern the young sibling had. He hoped they wouldn’t remember, that they would forget quickly. “We’ve put a stop to something that had been going on for a too long time. We saved a bunch of kids.” He paused there. Vivi stopped at an intersection and bided her time before turning the van, heading through a familiar neighborhood. “We’ll tell the Demon hunters what we found, and they won’t make the same mistakes we made. They’ll fix this if….” He let his voice trail off. He wasn’t sure if his words were helping, they felt pointless. Vivi was worried, he was worried, they were exhausted and in pain. Well, he was in pain.

A voice drifts up behind Arthur, and he feels a chill go down his spine. “Where’s Lewis?”

Arthur turns around, fumbles around in the dark for the camping lamp and manages to turn it on. “We’re you hurt?” Arthur asks.

Dimitri shakes his head slowly. His brother stares at Arthur, while sucking his thumb. The arm that pressed the fists to his mouth is looped around Dimitri’s neck, tightly. “I fell down, that’s it.”

Arthur nods. “What’s your brother’s name?”

Dimitri looks as if he’s unwilling to share the information, or was put off by the questions, but he answers. “Luther. I think he’s six now.”

“Hey Luther.” Arthur reaches his good arm over, and the littler boy grasps his hand. They shake. “Your big brother was looking for you.” Luther stares at Arthur but doesn’t comment; in his hand he clutches the broken pieces of the filthy cloth toy. Its button eyes glimmer fiercely in the lamp light beside them.

Mystery works on untangling himself from a cluster of children, to lean towards a girl and lick at her face. There-there, all’s better now. The girl gives a small sniffle and plows into Mystery’s shoulder, arms wrapping over the hounds neck. Mystery gives Arthur a pleading look as other children turn and pile around the dogs sides. Arthur coughs up a small laugh. Mystery was at times too tolerant, but he was a marvel.

By the time they reached Dimitri’s home, the sky was awash with purples and pinks of the dawn. The van doors open, and Dimitri helped Arthur and Vivi unload the lost children at the edge of the yard. Arthur stays with Mystery in the van, but Dimitri was enough to help Vivi guide the dazed cluster along the sidewalk path. The group had been asleep for so long, any remaining fatiguing was far beyond their comprehension. Removing them from the forest sprites realm helped, but it would take time for them to recover fully.

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri said, as Vivi herded the small pod to the porch of the household. The jacket had since been transferred to Luther, who swayed beneath Dimitri’s hands. Dimitri had to roll up the shoulders a good deal to keep Luther from stepping on and stumbling over the coat edges scuttling along the ground. “I… I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t… I’m sorry.”

Vivi nibbled at her lip, and stood motionless for a moment beside Dimitri. Dimitri had stopped as well, but wouldn’t look at her. “Take care of your brother,” she said. She pulled Dimitri a little closer and leaned down to kiss him on the head. “I know you will.”

Dimitri nods. Luther stood beside him, looking from his brother to the girl. “I hope you find him,” Dimitri murmured. He snatched his hands from Luther’s shoulder to rub at his face. “I didn’t mean to call him a monster. I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “Tell him… tell him when you find him. I’m sorry. I’m so stupid.”

Vivi lowered to her knees and took Dimitri’s face between her palms. “Shh, don’t say that,” she cooed. “Dimi… Ethan. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You were scared, there’s no shame in that. The last thing Lew would want is for you to be upset, because you were frightened and said some things. Just words. Please don’t cry.”

“It was Lewis,” Dimitri whimpered. Luther stares at Dimitri, as his older brother flops to his knees and wraps his arms around Vivi. “It was Lewis,” he whimpered. “I called him a monster. He was trying to protect me, and I… I called him a monster. How could I?”

Vivi held onto Dimitri and patted the back of his head. She looked at the other children waiting, staring, aimless and confused, still lost in the fog of their dreams. Despite it all she managed a small smirk when Luther plopped down beside them, and put his arms around them. “You need to get these kids out of the cold. Ethan, they’re relying on you,” Vivi hums. “You started this.”

He nodded against her shoulder. “Tell him,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.” Vivi pushed Dimitri up and dried his tears with the end of her scarf. “Please.”

“I will,” Vivi says. She reached behind her neck and unclipped a chain. Dimitri raised a hand to the little carved stone, as Vivi fastened the clasp behind his head. “That whole monster thing. He’ll have a good laugh. Him of all people, a monster?” Dimitri sniggered, and gripped the totem to his chest. “Now take these kids, and go jump on your dad.” Vivi pulls Dimitri and Luther to their feet, and guides them towards the front door of his home. She gently moves the other kids to follow over the frost encrusted lawn, and they pursue Dimitri without protest. Luther gave a little wave to Vivi, as his brother led him away by the hand. The children trail nebulously after Dimitri, as he steps up onto the leaf cluttered alcove of the porch.

Mystery was on the passenger seat of the van barking at his companions when they returned. He plopped into the center seat as Vivi and Arthur took position on either side of the hound. Arthur nearly toppled out as he reached to pull the side door shut, but Mystery caught the back of his puffy vest and jerked the thin figure back into his seat.

“Worse that can happen,” Vivi said, as she put the van into drive. “Someone tries and link us with the disappearances.” She gains speed. “I did check. That was all the missing kids. Thank gods.”

Arthur pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. “The college will credit us being far from the area,” he says. “I suppose they’ll want an informal report. Completely off record….” He takes a breath and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Mystery. Can you… I need some water.”

Mystery gives a light bark and leaps over the bench seat. His paws plop down onto the back and Arthur can hear him rummage around.

“Thank you,” Arthur mumbles, when he’s handed the bottle. He feels the exhaustion nestle heavily behind his eyes and the road begins to sway, gently, side to side. The bottle in his metal hand feels icy in his grip, and he cracks it open and takes a swig. Arthur makes a sound in his throat when he gags and leans over. “Vi. Vi. I need….”

“Hold on.” Vivi waits till they’re clear of the neighborhood, before pulls off to the side of the road. It’s a smaller park built for the younger generation, full of colorful play equipment, swings, a few trees glittering with ice. Vivi leaves the van on idle, the soft putter of the engine almost relaxing to Arthur’s throbbing head. “Lemme see the water.”

A bark comes from the back, and Mystery suddenly appears balanced on the seat back, one of Arthur’s ripped shirts grasped in his teeth. Vivi thanks him and takes the shirt.

“Hey… s’good work shirt,” Arthur protests, as Vivi pours a bit of the frigid water on the cloth.

“It’s clean,” Vivi retorts. She pulls her legs up under her on the middle seat and massages some of the dirt and blood from Arthur’s face. He’s startled by how red and filthy the shirt is when Vivi draws her hand back.

Then she stops, staring at Arthur with an expression he thought he knew but… he doesn’t understand the stare. Gently, she touches Arthur’s cheek and leans in a little closer, he can feel the scrutiny clawing at his consciousness.

“How bad is it?” Arthur asks. He reaches up and touches the clean spot on his skin.

“Hold on a sec,” Vivi mutters. She uses the damp shirt to clean off a little more of the soot and dirt and turns Arthur’s head to the side, to face the brightening colors of the dawn. Arthur squirms under her unnerving gaze, but Vivi holds him steady. “Look at me.”

“Vi?” Mystery whines at them. The dog drops off the seat into the back and begins pacing around. “Vi? What happened? Am I— ”

Vivi shuffles a bit away from Arthur and sits in the driver seat, legs folded under her. “Um… Art. Look in the mirror.”

Frightened, apprehensive, confused, Arthur leans up and turns the mirror down so he can see into it. His face has an ugly scratch up the side of his brow, but it should heal without—

Arthur gagged. That burning sensation burrows through his throat, and he felt an icepick dig at his temple. “My EYES!” He pulls his eyelids down, and feels something cold twist in his chest. No… no it couldn’t, how could it be? It’s not possible, it was insane. What happened was… he fell onto his face, a little bleeding in his eyes. That’s all. Completely harmless, he’d had this before, they would heal and he would never know the difference.

But he knew that was not Hyphema. The color was in his iris, rich, Alive. “Those are not my eyes.” He managed to stammer that, before a dark cloak swept through his peripheral and he felt the falling. That same distortion of weightlessness that haunted his nightmares surged through his body, when he failed to awake before the impact. Heat in his veins, fire in his brain, nerves frayed. Body broken.

Thick blots pulsed in his vision, growing large and thicker as he plummet down-down and down. Vivi said something, tries to sooth him, but he was beyond that. His head hit something warm, soft, and Vivi pawed at his shoulders to save his face from another painful bump. He smelt the cinder and the harsh acrid smoke from the clearing, the screeching of that thing when it disintegrated— all swept away in a flash of cold. The contrast jarred him, he had since been accustomed to that burning smell in everything, could hide it with a bad habit. It made him think of the stoves in the back of the kitchen, where he sometimes waited for shifts end. Such days, long-long ago, distant days. He didn’t want to lose those memories.

There was something more occupying his collapsing awareness. A presence. Hot but patient, waiting for him. He could _feel_ the sensation, a piece of something that was foreign, intrusive. It was horribly familiar, like the first time he had seen….

“ _Lewis._ ” Was in Arthur’s thoughts. “ _Lewis. Is… that you?_ ”

“ _Just shut up and sleep, Artie._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?
> 
> Poor Artie. Dude puts up with so much


	25. Chapter 25

**Seclusion**

 

Such a nebulous sensation. He was barely aware, could scarcely perceive his immobile body, couldn’t feel his outer-extremities. Was this what it meant to be comatose? It was a blur, all of it. Had he been aware during that time? Resting and waiting, body and soul mending from a trauma flesh could not endure? Was he not meant to remember the time between, when he was shifted out of existence and lay at the precipice of death? He shuddered internally from the recollection. Maybe he had blocked the entire thing. If so, what else could he be blocking?

It came back a little at a time. Weightlessness, floating. He was falling. Falling into the black pool beneath, high above a jewel glimmered against the abyss he had been thrown from. But really he was above, while simultaneously staring down at himself. The body below wasn’t his.

If emotion had a descriptive and physical form, Arthur would have recoiled. He felt himself cringe away, flee the memories, the ambiance. Pain. Not there. Not there. Stay away.

Where was he? What happened? What  **had**  happened?

The ripples came back, digging through his muscles like ravenous insects nipping; snipping at his nerves, bit-by-bit cutting him away. Secluding what was Arthur within an emerald haze. The presence. Not his mind, not his thoughts, nothing that could be identified as a part of him. It was a separate entity invading, taking over.

No! No-no-no-NO! He fought, thrashed, but there was nothing substantial to bring his self against. He was swarmed, overwhelmed. Stolen. NO! “ _NO! Lewis! For fucks sakes Lewis! Look up! Please! I don‘t – !"_

“ _I’m here, Art._ ” The voice was there suddenly, but it lacked solidity. It was thin and somewhat distant, but no doubt it was Lewis. “ _Take it easy, you’re safe._ ”

“ _You’re here,_ ” Arthur sputtered, awareness reeling. Blank after blank greeted his puzzlement, he couldn’t remember beyond the falling and the sudden heat in his body. But he was breathing, and somewhat connected to his inert mold of physicality, but he wasn’t… there was nothing inside this fog of his maimed consciousness. Somewhere, far back in his cognizance thrummed a steady pulse. “ _What? Where… What happened to me?_ ”

There was a span of silence, a void of sound. The complete absence of being. “ _You’re just sleeping,_ ” Lewis says. “ _You couldn’t handle the strain, and you collapsed. Just… steady yourself. Don’t panic._ ”

Arthur has no vague idea in what sense that Lewis is ‘there,’ let alone existing. Though, he can pick up on the tension, like a concern nagging at his thoughts as if he forgot something very important. Lewis’ voice, a projection in his mind, expressed a lingering unease, and palpable worry. But it was the clearest that Arthur had heard Lewis’ voice come through in a long time.

“ _I’ve gone insane,_ ” Arthur muttered. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to ‘be’ or stress, or anything. He just wants to sleep and dream of nothing.

“ _When you wake up_ ,” Lewis goes on, voice nearly transparent. “ _Try and… take it slow. I might not… be able to keep up. Art, you there? I want you to understand, I don’t want to be here_.”

“ _Why are you ‘here’?_ ” Arthur responds. He’s distressed, and he knows Lewis must pick up on it somehow. Arthur can’t figure how that works but he does know it, like it’s been imprinted in his mind. “ _I can’t… Lew’us. Where— ?_ ” He wanted to admit he was scared, just go ahead and say it, but to make it verbally known made something hitch painfully in Arthur.

Another long pause came from Lewis, the emptiness stretched between them. The whole situation was bad and it was quickly escalating toward something intolerable. Finally, Lewis’ answer came. “ _I don’t know,_ ” the voice resonates. “ _I was trying to latch onto your arm, the fake one, and… I guess I overshot._ ”

“ _You… overshot?_ ” Of course, only Lewis was capable of overshooting a target and… oh. “ _Did you… did you possess me_?” Silence. Arthur waited a long time; there was nothing present to gauge how long, only the steady thudding somewhere deep and lost in his head. Lewis, he wouldn’t… he knew the truth, at least that’s what he had said. No, he would never…. “ _Lewis… I don’t like this,_ ” Arthur yelped, tried to. He became frantic, panicked; there was nothing to fight, nothing physical; just words and brief snips of colors, and that constraining presence sitting on his sentience. “ _I know… I know you don’t give a fuck about what I was made to— and-and…. The possession! But—_ ” Arthur was ill all over again, he could feel it in the core of his chest burrowing deep into his soul and anchoring itself there. He hated it, it needed to be gone. “ _Nah! No! No! You hafta… you gotta fix this! Get outta my head! Lewis! Let me GO!_ ”

Lewis voice was so faint, Arthur nearly missed it whisper under his internal cries. “ _If I could, Arthur, don’t you think I would?_ ” Something was in the pauses Lewis punctuated his resonate projections with. “ _It wasn’t my intent, it… I wouldn’t do this to anyone, last of all you. Believe me, I was going for your arm._ ”

Honestly, hearing that truth didn’t comfort Arthur to any amount. Nothing was exchanged for what felt like ages, the haunting pulse merged its palpitations into something of a hum. Arthur lost touch of it, didn’t care. “ _I’m asleep because my body was overburdened?_ ” Arthur murmured. Old news is old. “ _What happens when I wake up? Lewis? What do you do? Lew? Lewis! Are—_ ”

“ _Could you calm down?_ ” Lewis voice was frail, threaded together only by a persistent desire to remain buoyant. “ _I’m… not as strong as I seem. I lost too much of myself, and I thought I would’ve…._ ” He trails off there.

It was too much for Arthur to process – the nightmares that plagued his restless nights, the unyielding guilt; the contradictions to his retooled instincts. Arthur knows Lewis wouldn’t have done what he did unless he absolutely believed his existence was in peril. It was an accident. But his mind couldn’t accept this actuality. Scars… never mended quite right.

“ _Lew? I’m… I didn’t know,”_ Arthur burbled. _“I said some things, didn’t I? I don’t remember... can’t. But I wouldn’t... y-you get caught up with the worst of—”_

__“_ Don’t say that, _” Lewis replies. “_ Not that, Artie. You can’t… say such things. _”_ _

 

__

Hours whisked by. Soon the sun was descending, the frigid sharpness in the air seeped into everything. Shadows stretch across the walls and congeal around the lone window of the room, while lights outside the dark shelter brighten until the only colors that sift through the thick curtain drapes burn with amber-gold. The only other color to contrast the gloomy recesses was a blue sheen from a lone computer screen; timid and far spaced ticking comes and goes as the hour draws out. Beyond this world cars chug by, the distant shrill of mechanical engines call from a distant yonder, sometimes the voices of nearby people going on about their day and their lives drift in and out of the small environment contained within the warm room. As the daylight slowly escaped, it seemed as if the world outside had slowly slipped away as well. That place was barely a distant memory. Memories of a place….

Vivi sat on the ruffled covers of the bed, her back braced by a pile of pillows complimentary for the room’s guests. She passed the time watching internet videos – animations, gif compilations, lol vids; at one point she raised the volume on a kitten vid.

At the foot of the bed, where he lay beside Arthur, Mystery raised his head from his paws and gave Vivi a curious look. The dog tilted his head one way then the other, his yellow spectacles flashed against the cyan light.

“Sorry,” Vivi whispered, through a thin smirk. Mystery wagged his tail and lay his head down, patient and unreadable as always. Vivi returned to her video, but not before giving the shape under the covers a short glimpse.

Nothing. Not even a whimper.

Vivi had to drag him the whole way to the motel room. Arthur’s stiff limbs hung like weights and he made no visible indication that he was still alive, aside from the warmth of his body and the slow beating of his heart. Throughout the short venture Arthur had reacted in no way to his relocation, not even a shiver in the frigid air.

The night was zipping away, but Vivi hardly noticed. She did keep track of the minutes and every half hour she would scoot forward to check Arthur, assure herself he was still breathing. His breath had become so shallow Vivi had to avidly search it out. She couldn’t bring herself to do anything else but wait and let him recover at his own pace. Medically speaking this might have been unwise, but she didn’t know what else could be done. Aside from hooking Arthur up to a bunch of machines and running tests; lots and lots of tests, with the possibility of Arthur awakening on his own, to a horror scene and maybe no grasp on the exact series of events that led up to his current state. And Arthur’s wellbeing was not the only one she was apprehensive about.

Finally, Arthur twitched and coughed. Tense, Vivi watched as the wad of blankets shifts and stills. She thought briefly it was an impulse, a fluke of muscle spasms, but a few minutes passed and Arthur began pushing at the covers pinned over his shoulders. Jostled from his warm spot Mystery hopped off the bed and strolled over to the computer chair, beside a side table that stood adjacent to the bed. He leapt onto the sunken cushion of the chair and curled down, adjusted his head upon his paws to face Arthur and raised his eyebrows high.

“Art?” He didn’t react to Vivi’s voice, not at first. Slowly, Arthur pulled himself out from under the blanket and huddled beneath the heavy shelter of the room. He tried to raise his prosthetic to his head, but Vivi had removed it early to simplify transporting him. Arthur stiffened at this realization and held himself motionless, the blankets slipping down the back of his dirt stained shirt. “Arthur?” Vivi tries again.

Then he turns to look at her, eyes aflame in the dark room. Vivi took a sharp breath and tugged at the laptop on her lap. “Lewis?”

Arthur made a face and winced. He dropped his head and brought his only arm up to rub at his eyelids. “No,” he said, voice hoarse. “He’s here. I think… you have that?”

Vivi nods. “I….” She dithers to say, or ask. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, in case you… you look terrible.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Arthur hung his head and closed his eyes. He loops his one arm around his side and held himself, rocking slightly. The light from the computer was so-so bright.

“I wanna ask how you’re feeling…. Fuck it. Are you both okay?” Vivi shoved the computer aside and leaned forward, reaching out to Arthur’s head. She’d done her best to clean his face and bandage his wound beside his brow, though it wasn’t serious. She needed something mundane to do, since there was nothing else she could help with. “Do you understand what’s going on?” Arthur nodded. Vivi raised her hands to his face and gripped the sides of Arthur’s head carefully.

“Hold on.” Arthur took the side of the blanket and tossed it over onto the laptop, just to dose the light a bit.

Vivi checked his eyes, she didn’t need much light to help. Arthur’s eyes retained an eerie hue. “I’m checking for dilation,” she said, as explanation. “It’s like head trauma. I found a website that had some good information, credible. At least Mystery thinks…. You had a nosebleed to, not bad.” She smoothed back Arthur’s hair and released his head. Arthur looked down. “Art.” Vivi lowers a hand to his stronger shoulder and grips it tightly. “I know you’re in a lot of pain. But… what else is there?”

Arthur took a slow breath and exhaled. “It’s not like that,” he murmured. “The shock of it. Mostly.” He shrugs Viv’s hand off his shoulder. “It was an accident, but it’s better when I don’t fight. Lewis… he isn’t comfortable with this at all, I think because it’s me. Where‘d my arm go?”

Vivi left the bed and snagged the prosthetic off the desk that Mystery was lying beside. She handed it to Arthur, and held his shoulders a he began swaying again. Instead of attaching the arm, Arthur left it on the bed and pressed the wristband of his good hand across his eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” Arthur mutters. “I’m just… we’re really exhausted.”

“Is he…?” Vivi lowered herself to sit beside Arthur on the bed. She wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort Arthur in some way. “There? Talking to you?”

Arthur faintly shook his head. “I try getting his attention. It feels like he’s ignoring me, or hiding. Too much for him. Too much.” That was only partly true, but Arthur didn’t want to say anything more. He reached his hand up and tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“Do you need anything?” Vivi asked. Arthur mumbled a negative tone, hardly audible but Vivi caught it. A car steered by outside on the parking lot, its headlamps flashed across the upper wall of the small room causing Arthur to fold down silently. Vivi waited until the rumbling engine faded, before she moved to rise, carefully. “I’ll go get you some food and drinks. You’ll need that.”

“I don’t feel much like eating,” Arthur murmured, through his shoulder’s sleeve.

Vivi joined Mystery beside the side table, and gave the hounds cheek a scratch. “And I don’t want to leave either of you in this state,” she answered. Vivi had already claimed her shoes where they were left on the floor and slipped the blue foot ware on. “But Mystery will look after you, and later you’ll probably need something. I won‘t be gone long.” She took the laptop off the bed, and Arthur shielded his eyes from the bright screen until Vivi had shut it. She went into the little bathroom and the light flashed on, the sound of running water came and stopped in short succession. When Arthur raised his head, he blinked at the bright outline of light shimmering around Vivi’s blue silhouette. She held a water filled plastic cup out to him. “Drink this.”

“What’s in it?” Arthur took the offered cup and peered through the side.

“Just water, you dork. Stay hydrated.” Vivi revisited the small bathroom and clicked off the light, the rush of dark immediately set Arthur to ease. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?” Vivi pressed. She stood near Arthur in the gloom, hands clasped together or tangled with the edge of her sweater. “I won’t leave if you don’t want me too?”

Arthur raised his arm a bit and motioned for the door. “No, I… we’ll be fine,” he mumbled. “Give me a chance to… come ‘round.” Briefly Vivi fidgeted with her hands, before she leaned down to give Arthur a tight little hug.

“Don’t work too hard,” she murmured. Vivi left Arthur where he sat and crossed the room; on her way out she snagged one bag off the low bench placed near the room’s door and stepped out into the bright, cold night. The soft sputter if the heater geared up, overreacting to the timid puff of white flurries that swept in through the open door. Upon her departure the atmosphere of the room thinned, it became open and vacant. Empty. Though, Mystery was still there.

Once Vivi was gone Mystery raised his head and looked over the chairs armrest, to view Arthur.

“Hey bud,” Arthur burbled, clumsily. Even with that comforting presence, Arthur was the least bit solaced. “I’m good. Don’t worry about it. It… that doesn’t help.” Mystery reversed the position of his paws on the chair cushion and gave a very large yawn. Arthur checked the dog once more, as Mystery lowered his head down to his paws. Those eyes though, they remained on him.

Arthur’s breath quivered as he raised the plastic cup to his lips and took a sip, only to wince and choke. It took a brief pause for Arthur to get some control over himself, but once he managed he held the cup up and pressed the soft texture of the cheap plastic to his forehead. If he held still the pain would subside, but stubbornly it lingered. The tinges of his vision pulsed with the yellow haze from the curtain, its radiant colors made him sick; the idea of engine exhaust and cigarette smoke made him sick; breathing made him sick. He wished, he prayed for the searing pulse in his head to fade, but it was impervious to mental persuasion.

“ _Are you there?_ ” Arthur mused, mentally probing for the shade that was not a piece of his mind. “ _Lew?_ ” His mind felt vacant of that other presence, though his body was thoroughly convinced it was there. Arthur waited as an aching burn soothed out of his skull; he nearly crushed the cup of water, he was gripping it so tightly. “ _Say something. Anything. Are you… are you able to go through my memories?_ ”

A low rasp came, easily identified as Lewis. Hearing the resonance in his head, while aware and awake, and unclouded by the haze of unconsciousness, it was different. Arthur was scarcely certain if he was not insane. A toneless whisper whistled, “ _No_.”

Arthur waited for an elaboration, a vague out of context comment from Lewis, but the spirits responses were waned. Lethargic. “ _You’re not going to? Or… you can’t tamper with my thoughts? I mean, would you? Lewis!_ ” Arthur was terrified by what the response might be, even if it were a deception to alleviate his concerns. Arthur just needed some sort of answer.

Arthur leaned far to his side, eyes squinted tightly shut. Nothing helped. He could hear Mystery in the dark, the bright red collar, bright-bright, vibrant red, collar, jingling as the dog adjusted his head accordingly to Arthur’s movement.

“ _Even if I could,_ ” Lewis voice threaded through the pain, barely audible over the throbbing of Arthur’s blood. “ _I wouldn’t want to understand what’s in your mind._ ”

For some reason, Arthur nodded. Lewis probably knew or couldn’t care, Arthur himself was barely able to stay conscious. He leaned over in the dark and set the cup on the nightstand beside the bed. He nearly dropped sideways, briefly forgetting the lack of his arm when he had lowered his shoulder to the bed. His remaining arm caught the side of the blankets and tightened on the fabric, biding time till the vertigo waned. It took a good while but Arthur had obtained a small slither of euphoria that promised he could stand without collapsing.

Thin scraps of light entered from the window curtains and crept across the room to fall over the lumps of bags, sagging on a foldable bench placed beside the opposite wall.  Dull hues of yellow slip across the polished particle wood of the side desk, where the neglected television was setting.  A random lurch of movement in Arthur’s peripheral startled him, but he eased himself quickly when he raised his hand in defense towards the glossy surface of obsidian hovering low in the dark.

Just his reflection. No shadows. No looming shapes, pale faces, smoldering flames. Arthur listened for a moment to the dull thud of his heart in the near silence of the room. It always comforted him at night, once he settled down in the aftermath of a night terror. The thought of those dreams raised the bottomless dread in him, and he raised a hand to grasp at his chest.

From the corner came a low groan. Mystery. Impatient, waiting for him to do something interesting. Arthur gave a low snigger as he began to paw around at the bags on the cotton bench. A little rasp of relief slipped from him, when his hand brushed over the familiar fabric pattern of his travel bag. He wriggled the zipper loose with his thumb and forefinger, and managed to get his thumb through the small opening. It took no effort to work the bag open.

How many times had he done this? In spooky homes with no light, while something venomous lurked; or in the back of the van while Vivi slept. He pushed aside some vials, a piece of graphite, a random article of clothing, a small pocket knife… there. He plucked out the little container and ran his thumb along the lid. Wrong one. He pushed the bottle aside in the bag, and dug around a bit more. This was the one. He could identify the groove carved in the top easily.

Mystery’s tag clicked as the dog moved – probably raised his head curiously – when Arthur knelt down. Vivi had already taken his shoes off, so Arthur need only to stuff the container’s base between his toes. It took some skill and effort but once he had the bottle secure, Arthur gripped the top and pushed down, then twist. The top came off no problem.

Arthur relocated his carry bag on the bed, and sat down near the nightstand. On the chair across from him Mystery’s eyes gleamed as the dog watched his companion’s actions intently. “Don’t worry,” Arthur spoke. “I‘m just… take one. I gotta cut this.” Mystery vague shape tilts his head and moved his ears apart. Eventually, the hound does lower his head to chair cushion. “I serious… doubt slippin’ a knife under the mattress is gonna help.” Arthur takes a small tablet and drinks the rest of the water.

It would take a while for the effects of the pill to work. Arthur stashed the bottle back in his bag and lay down on the bed, slowly. The dark fringes around his eyes pulsed, god it felt like his brain wanted to erupt inside his skull.

“ _Lewis_?” There was no answer. “ _You freaked Vivi out really bad._ ” Nothing still, and the faint thudding had nearly vanished from his mind. “ _You… Lew? You’re not gonna control me, or anything?_ ”

“ _Shhh._ ” Hissed in his mind. “ _Rest a bit._ ”

“I’m trying,” Arthur whispers, aloud. The night before seemed like eons ago, a bad dream, the forest sprite squealing, the heavy scent of cinder. Arthur… didn’t want to ask Lewis what had happened to the hostile. Arthur had never seen the sight of it before. Never, since…. “ _Lew. For… how long are we stuck like this?_ ”

The response took its good sweet time before Lewis rasped out, softly. “ _Slow down, Art._ ” His disembodied voice faded in and out, sometimes clear but Arthur had to pay careful attention or the wording would begin to garble off. _“I can’t separate… can’t manifest on my own. It wasn’t simple to… make you aware I was present in the first place. I tried…_.” The dimming pause came. Arthur decided he didn’t like it when Lewis was silent. “ _Take it slow. Calm. I don‘t know how….._ ” Then the voice faded off and did not come back. Arthur waited, growing anxious in the minutes that followed. The reply hadn’t ended abruptly, but it was left unfinished.

“Lew? _Lewis?_ ” Arthur didn’t take the sleep aids, he was sure. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t thinking straight, his head hurt and his shoulders ached. There was no one portion of him that was not in pain. What if they had an adverse effect on him due to the possession? Medications. Many were sometimes wrongly prescribed in similar cases, but Arthur couldn’t have known. He should have asked first. But Lewis was aware enough, he knew what Arthur was doing, should have known. Wouldn’t he? At least, that’s what Arthur wanted to believe. The room’s dark walls and pale edges began to blur, the contrasting hues of gold and blue melted together and swirled. Falling….

Falling….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lewis is really bad at possessing electrical devices. And Arthur.
> 
> Honestly. These characters are a mess.


	26. Chapter 26

**Lake Shadows**  

Warm summer light skittered across the surface of the gray waters, a soft breeze rustled through the green leaves of tall trees. The water glittered like diamonds, dozens, hundreds of diamonds shimmering beneath an orange sun.

He took a deep breath and smelled the vanishing rains of the prior day. The sky above hid evidence of the merciless downpour and only coyly revealed bright blue skies, a vibrant contrast to the surrounding woods. The trees fluffed their canopies and leaves absorbed the last warmth of a fading sun. He hoped it would be a warm night, just so they could enjoy the rising stars hours following the suns departure. He found lately he enjoyed star gazing with Vivi, she was full of mysticism and wonder, and endless curiosity.

Barks. He knew those barks, and it only occurred to Lewis that he was standing at the very edge of a rickety old pier, with no intention of diving in just yet.

He spun aside, and one dog minus glasses zoomed by and lunged out over the gray waters.

Lewis finished his twirl, and stood facing the water as the droplets dazzled the surface. “Nice try, Mystery.” He waggled a finger towards the hound when Mystery popped his water logged head above the surface. Was that dog grinning?

“CANNON BALL!”

Lewis grimaced. He wrenched around and put his arms up. “NO! Don’t! NOT YE—” But Vivi had already looped an arm around his midsection and lunged off the pier. Lewis lost his balance and went down backwards, his screams cut off. Gurgles and water floundering followed.

Gradual and unhurried rocked up to the end of the pier and Arthur stood, a few feet back from the broken edge, as water sprayed and voices giggled. Lewis was complaining about getting used to the water, and Vivi went on about how diving in and getting it over with was always best. Arthur gripped the insides of his pockets with his fists and raised his shoulders.

“So, should I start unloading? S’gonna be night soon,” muttered Arthur. He lowered himself down to sit on the edge, his shoe soles dangled near the water’s surface.

Vivi kicked away from the pier on her back. “Aw, why don’t you come in for a quick dip?” Mystery begins a slow dog paddle around Vivi, as she drifts. “There’ll be plenty of time later for that.”

It was a very warm, humid day, and the breeze slipping of the lake made the water more appealing. Arthur took out a bundle of sage he’d been carrying in his pocket and fiddled with it between his fingers, turning it over and feeling the soft velvety texture of the leaves. “I wanna try and save the batteries till or next pay,” he says. And then cringes down as he turns his eyes back, towards the large looming home perched beyond the grassy shore. “Plus… that place will be more hospitable in the daylight. You know, it is super creepy.” Arthur gave a shriek and somersaulted backwards, when a shape burst from the water right under his shoes.

Lewis took a breath and smoothed his hair back. “Ooh. Sorry Artie. You still breathing?”

“Do you do that on purpose?” Arthur shrieks as he climbed forward on the pier.

Lewis smirked and crossed his arms, his stylish pompadour was already drying in the sun. “No?” Then, nods his head towards the lakeside home. “So far it’s just a house. Why don’t you relax for a bit, and later will go over the layout together? Less spooky. Safety in numbers?”

“I just want to get it over and done with now,” Arthur mumbled. Vivi was giggling, trying to stand up in the water and cradle Mystery in her arms. The hound did not approve and kept wriggling his soggy body until she released him, with a splash, into the water. “I’ll feel more accomplished. I detest these long endless hours on the road.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Lewis chuckled.

Vivi came splashing up, and Arthur raised a hand to keep the cool mist off his face. “If that’s what you wanna do, Art. Go for it,” she said. “You’re good with the equipment. But… maybe leave a comm. on the pier here, so if you get into trouble or something you can call us.” She reached up and patted the space of the warped wood beside where Arthur sat.

“Sounds like a plan,” Arthur mumbled. He raised himself up by his arms and slipped his feet under him. “Catch you aquanauts later.” He waved a hand back over his shoulder as he jogged off.

“Think he’ll be okay?” Lewis dwelled. Mystery paddled by and raised his nose towards the pier, and raised a paw to scratch at the dangling board. Lewis gripped the soggy mess of fur and placed him onto the piers top, only to step back and shield himself when Mystery charged off and dove into the water.

Vivi giggled and wiped some of the water from her bangs. “Yeah. Reports on this place are below substandard,” she assured. “Creepy shadows, vertigo. No historical files that label any sort of tragedy since the homes construction.” She looked back to the tall mansion, hidden by the over growth of old trees, the extending roof over the back porch had caved inward. “Of course, that doesn’t mean a… thing!” While Lewis was distracted with the house, Vivi had slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms about his waist. Lewis gave a half cry as she jerked him backwards, into the water.

Mystery ceased his diving and stared at the water’s surface as it began to calm. A few bubbles escaped the dark depths and popped, comically. He gave his head a shake, removing most the water from his mane, and raised his ears forward intently. He jerked his snout around, but there was no indication of the two. Were they playing or had someone hurt them self? He was about to bark for Arthur, when Lewis broke free of the water. Vivi tried to stand beside him, but her feet slipped and she plopped back into the water choking and laughing.

“That was a terrible idea,” Vivi managed, coughing. Lewis found the lake bottom under him and stood, then pulled Vivi upright and patted her on the back.

“Well, now you’re more the wiser.” A sly smirk stretched over his face. “But given your nature, I doubt it.” He put his arms up when Vivi gave a shrill cry and leapt at him, Lewis crashed backwards into the water with Vivi on top of him this time.

And they were splashing now. Mystery snorted and began paddling to the shore. He gave his fur a fierce shake and crossed to a grassy knoll a few feet from the sandy shore, there he stretched out on a carpet of grass in the sunlight and watched the lake.

The trees surrounding the home grew together in tight, interlocking limbs that rubbed at the frailest gust which generated ominous creaks and moans. Wild shrubs grew in erratic clusters across the untamed lawn, their bare spindly timber thrusts out from the leaf choked leaves of the neglected plants. A cracked stone path led from the back porch of the home to the edge of the lakes shore, there the wood steps had rotted and sank into the rick soil of the beach leaving only chunks of stones to indicate the former path. Shadows cast by the thick canopy twitch and quiver over the broken path where the copses ended.

Mystery edged one eye open as the sounds in the lake calmed for a bit. His companions looked safe and unharmed, he could rest a bit longer. He rolled over onto his back and turned his head aside, out of the light.

Blue spun endlessly above them, like a deep cyan wave rolling and crashing at the edges of the trees. It felt so far away, and yet it wasn’t, somehow. Vivi couldn’t find words to describe it. Her arms rest above her head, tangled with Lewis’ arms, to keep them from floating away from the other. Water lapped lazily at her ears, and she could hear echoes across the lawn as Arthur unloaded the van of their collective supplies. Why did he want to work so hard?

Though, she shouldn’t be one to talk.

“Just think Lew,” Vivi began. The lake was deep, thirty feet at least, maybe more in some areas. “There could be dead bodies at the bottom, and no one would ever know.”

Lewis snorted at the water and tilts his head back. “Vi? Here, of all places?

“It could be true,” she defends. “Don’t deny it. And people go swimming, and they’d never know. Wouldn’t care, probably.” She unlocked one arm from Lewis and pulled at her swimsuit strap. “It could be like… from a hundred years ago. Whoever they are, resting all this time at the bottom of a lake.”

“I try not to think about stuff like that, particularly when I’m swimming in the subject.” Lewis wrapped his arm around Vivi’s, and they were back to staring at the sky. Did it go on forever? Books insisted it did, astronomers believed so. During the day it was hard to imagine the infinite possibilities of the sky. “Maybe some colonial settlers?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Nothing but bones,” Lewis went on. And he shuddered from the timid rush of air touching the lakes surface. “Gotta suck, to be forgotten like that.”

“Yeah.” Vivi nodded, hair spiraling around her head in a celestial body of blues. “Wish we’d bought some goggles.”

“And water proof flashlights.”

 

That was the last of the important gear. They traveled light, anything else they might need wouldn’t be too much trouble to get. Arthur slung his own personal bag over his shoulder and shoved the door of the van shut. The shadows were much cooler now as the evening evaporated, and the sun sank further into the tree lining. He looked out at the lake, where Vivi and Lewis floated idly. Looked like the swimming bit lost its appeal, for now.

A bird, it sounded like a woodpecker, rapped against a tree somewhere in the canopy. Arthur raised his brows as he looked up, he hadn’t expected the sound. It was strange, out of place somehow, which really didn’t make since. A crow cackled, harping on the moist air as a gale blew through scattering leaves around the weed infested path, a torrent of leaves crashed through the open front doors he’d left wide open.

“Shit.” Arthur hurried away to shut the doors before more leaves raced in. As hurried to the front steps, his shadow remained imprinted to the back doors of the van. It stood there, one dark limb raised to where Arthur’s hand had rested on the metal hull.

The corroded hinges of the door protested rough treatment, and Arthur had to shove his body against the backside of the cracked wood to force one door shut. To convince the other door to budge Arthur gripped the handle and braced his shoe soles to the porch boards, he tilt back on his heels and PULLED, until the latch clicked in the door. Momentarily he was held up only by his hands wrapped about the handle, and he dithers from hauling himself upright onto the flats of his feet. Arthur’s eyes snap open and he turns his head checking across the front wall of the porch, searching the cracked and broken windows. He saw nothing, but he felt the distinct sensation that… he was not alone.

Arthur released the door and whipped about. He stared at the van down on the gravel path. It sat there innocently, but fastened to the bright exterior of the colorful metal was a shape. A familiar, eerie, black shape. Where the… the eyes, they glittered like stars.

Arthur gulped, he teetered backwards and hit the door. The instant he blinked it was gone. Completely, as if it were never there. He watched and waited, perplexed. Had… had he imagined it? He rubbed his eyelids and looked back up. Shades worked across the upper edge of the vans roof, the limbs of the shrouded canopy creak and a raven gives a woeful call. The sounds twist into something else, a kind of rasping that is unnerving. It’s the sound of creeping, of humming wind churning through grass blades, stalking. Of a thing that didn’t want to be seen, but what it desired didn’t matter since it was not truly there. A harsh gale whipped through the trees, and Arthur bolts.

The branches seem to rattle their gnarled limbs and cackle as he tears away. He lunges over the rail on the porches side and races for the lake, feet pumping and heart racing. Leaves scuttle through the large bundles of brush, while the wind rips through the shadows. Arthur doesn’t look, he keeps running. Arms stretch from the gloom about him, emaciated black hands snatching at his shoulders and scalp, white knuckles glint in brief patches of sunlight. They catch at his vest as it flares out around him in his mad race, hunched forward, his own hands curled above his head to fend off the clawing assault. He hears moaning, death throes of lost souls. Never does he see a face attached to the bodies, just endless arms grabbing.

Arthur breaks free of the yard and stumbles out away, into open air, sunlight, and warmth. He pivots and stumbles backwards, eyes searching the innocent blue drapes between him and the mansion, seeking his form, his impression betraying him. Once he feels certain he’s safe from the groves the reach, he turns and checks his feet. There lay his scrawny dark shape on the ground, where it is supposed to be.

Arthur raises a hand and knots a fist into the front of his shirt, and lets out a strained breath. Behind him, the water churns apart in a calamity of splashing from where the others race out of the shallows.

“You okay?” Lewis barks out first.

“Yeah,” Arthur lies. He can’t look away yet. He touches his shoulders and his head, no scratches, nothing. His clothing is in one piece, like last he checked. His hands tremble, and he hurriedly works to wipe off his face and clothing of the scrabbling sensation. “I thought something was chasing me….” His words fade and he pivots to face the others crossing the sandy shore, his hands still tugging his vest and shirt out from his skin.

Vivi slung the excess water off her hands as she marched up to Arthur and took his shoulders. “You sure? You looked hella scared.” She glanced Lewis’ way as he raised a hand to fix up his hair. “I told you, you could have waited for us.”

Arthur leaned back from Vivi and shook his head. “I swear, I’m good. Got all the stuff inside. Didn’t see anything.” He clenched his teeth. That was a lie, but he didn’t mean to dismiss what he had seen. Theoretically, it could have been his imagination. His mind just sort of made up elaborate scenes, sometimes superimposed shapes that could never be. Maybe it was some light from inside the mansion and it cast his shadow onto the vans back door. Yeah. That sounded lame.

The occurrence was soon forgotten by the team. Once Lewis and Vivi retired from the swimming and put on some clothing, the evening investigation could be strategized. However, an army marches on its stomach, and while Vivi scoped out the mansion interior with Arthur and Mystery, Lewis was entrusted with dinner’s safe preparation.

The portable cooker was the one thing Lewis made sure to pack whenever his group ventured out, mystery solving on the far out and distant case. He set up shop on the front porch, one of Vivi’s camping lanterns rigged to the underside of the cracked timber of the roof eave. There was still summer light to see by under the trees, soft tones of blues steadily becoming richer and darker as the moon found its way into the sky. Little insects puttered around the light, most deterred by the white smoke of cooking foods.

Lewis’ company for the time was Mystery. The dog lay beside the weathered wood railing of the porch facing Lewis, eye brows raised pleadingly.

“Wanna sample?” Lewis chirped. Mystery raised his head and watched intently, glasses flashing as Lewis took his cooking fork and pierced one of the marinated chicken cuts among the veggies. “Hang on.” He blew on the procured bite a few times, until the steam subsided, then handed it to the dog. “How’s that?”

Mystery licked his lips and looked aside, ears bent back. He tapped his claws on the porch, before he turned back to Lewis and gave a firm bark.

“A little more spice?” Spices were arranged along the railing, all with custom labels. His family made all of them. “I can’t add too much. It’ll be too strong for Arthur.”

The spice should complement the texture of the food. Mystery raised his back end and stretched. As he was spinning around to lie down again, a ruckus came from the front door. Shouting, pounding steps, and suddenly Arthur being chased by Vivi. What now?

“Guys! Guys! Cool it!” Lewis snarled. “I’m workin’ here!” He stabbed the fork into the center of the cooking basin as Arthur and Vivi sprint in his direction, but diverted off over the railing of the porch at the last minute. Mystery raised one paw to catch a vial of spice before it could fall off the rail.

“If you did anything weird to my EVP reader!” Vivi was screaming. The beam of the torch she carried darted across the gravel, hunting for Arthur though he too carried a pale gleaming light.

Arthur was between stutters and giggles. “I fixed it! I improved it! You’ll get cleaner voice readings! What do you want me to say!”

“Certify me it won’t EXPLODE!” The shouts and lights darted out of sight, and Lewis gave a small sigh of relief. Mystery arfed.

Lewis glanced at the cooking basin he was utilizing, and cocked his brow at it. It was fantastic, worked exceptionally come rain or fog, it was custom built by Arthur for him, and had never exploded…. Yet. Mystery followed his gaze and took a step back.

A short while later Arthur came racing back. He ducked between a broken space in the railing and was out of sight. “Pack a plate to go, Lew?” he snapped, voice fading through the front door.

“Sure!” Lewis called back. “What’re you up to now?” He didn’t get an answer, not a direct one. He turned his attention up to the van and saw Vivi, her dark silhouette posed atop the vans roof, torch at her feet. A flash went off, and another. She took up the torch and climbed down the vans side.

“Smells mouthwatering,” Vivi said, when she had crossed the yard. She turned off the flashlight and slipped it through the railing beside Mystery. The porch was elevated a few feet above the ground, and Vivi stood there as she raised up the camera. “Is that a Sautee?”

“A fast recipe,” Lewis explained. “But very good.” He wiped his hands on the towel hanging from his pocket, and took the camera. “Looks nondescript. But it’s really dark.” He stirred the vegetables a bit, then clicked through more of the pictures. “Is it just me, or does the interior seem super dark?”

“Arthur thought that too,” Vivi says. She climbs up onto the rail from the front side, Lewis catches containers of spice and moves them over to the windowsill to his left. “It gets creepy, and cold, unnaturally so. I think there is a spirit here.”

“There could be a basement somewhere in there? Did you find a basement?” Vivi shakes her head. “The whole house has a hollow foundation.”

“We’ll take temperature readings first thing. I’ll get the plates.” Vivi took the camera when Lewis handed it over, and she rushed across the yard back to the van.

“And bring some bread and cheese!” Lewis noted Mystery had raised himself on his haunches, and was pawing at the boards. The dog would aim his ears forward then draw them back, and scratch. “You think you smell something?”

Mystery raised his head, and looked towards the open front door. His hair bristled and he took a step back, as Arthur went barreling out and down the porch steps. He nearly toppled onto the gravel path but stopped and swung back, arms outstretched at his sides as if preparing for some sort of attack but unsure how to meet it. From where Lewis stood, he could hear the strained pants of the other.

“Art! What happened?” Lewis called. He left the fork on the cooking pit and began forward. Mystery spun around and darted ahead to the steps, but stopped when Arthur raised a hand. Lewis stood behind the dog and waited.

“It’s… everything’s okay,” Arthur spoke, voice quivering. “It’s, uh….” He began pulling at his cloths, checking up his bare arms and neck, then looked at Lewis. His torch was gone. “Nothing. I got startled… damn spiders.”

Lewis leaned on the railing and gripped the worn wood in his hands. “Art. Don’t lie,” he growled. “If something is going on… what happened?” He didn’t drop his gaze from Arthur, even when Vivi hurried up to him, plates carried under one arm. She handed Arthur her light.

“Did you see something in there?” Vivi dug. Arthur stares at the light hitting the overgrown gravel path, and shook his head. “Be honest Art. We can leave at any time— ”

“No! I was startled, that’s it!” Arthur turned his face to Vivi’s and stares over her into her eyes. “Nothing. Happened.”

“You seem really….” Vivi trails off when Arthur set a hand on her shoulder, and patted her. He walked by, back up the steps to the front door and peered into the dark gloom of the interior.

“It’s fine, see?” Arthur edged inside, one foot outstretched then the rest of him sliding in, out of sight. He poked his head out and looked to Lewis. “Is something burning?”

“Mierda! Maldita Sea! Te juro que si esta comida es quemada, a cocinar un estúpido fantasma!” Lewis darts back to the cooker. Mystery follows yapping. “Plates, Vi! Plates! We must save it!”

Arthur drew the corner of his mouth back in a sly grin. Beyond the entry of the door his smile faded, slowly. The wind caressed the edges of the home, crept through the windows, and the walls called like the somber harp of a raven. Hollow, cold, and they were spending the night here.

Over dinner Vivi plotted, as she usually did. She ate quickly, too excited to sit still, the food too good to set down. She paced about the large entrance room swinging her fork around in the dull glow of the candles that were set around the remaining furniture.

“We’ll scour every inch of this house. No corner left unchecked. Arthur, you check the top floors!” she directed, while stabbing another bite of food. More like mouthful.

Lewis was grinning. He couldn’t help it, he loved it when Vivi got to this point. “Calm down,” he hummed. “It’d be bad if you choked.” He gave an exasperated sigh when Vivi turned on him.

“You and Mystery get temperature readings from under the floor.” Vivi stabbed a piece of food and chewed on it. Then, directed the end of the fork towards Lewis. “There has to be a cellar, or maybe even a break in the floor. Something we missed, that could deliver the cold drafts around the home.”

Arthur was finishing off the last of his meal, a grilled cheese sandwich, and left half the sandwich on his plastic plate. “Say,” he began, as he strolled away from the cracked window beside the front door. “Why do I have to check out the upper floors?”

“You won’t be alone,” Vivi chirped. “I’ll be up there too, checking around.” She resumed eating with frenzy.

Lewis sat on a discarded shipping crate, placed at an old desk left in the rooms center and the candles standing above it flickering under Arthur’s approach. Lewis took Arthur’s plate and glanced at the neglected sandwich remains, and gave Arthur a brief look. Arthur turned away and headed for their supply bags.

“Wasn’t that hungry,” Arthur muttered. He kept his back to Lewis as he dug through his provision bag.

Mystery placed his paws upon the edge of the desk and hoisted himself upright. He sniffed at the plate with the leftovers and glanced over it, to Lewis. Lewis shrugged; at least Arthur had eaten today.

Despite the humidity of the nearby lake and the recent showers that drenched the land, the interior of the old lakeside home was bone dry. Leaving the front door open throughout disembark helped in no physical way, it only moved off some of the finer dust on the lower floor where the group would bed down once investigations were concluded for that evening. The old lakeside was a treat, rundown and inhospitable but it was still standing in the long decades that had passed it by, surviving storms and was relatively untouched by vandals. Vivi had talked the others into packing enough supplies for a few days, and they could enjoy a small mini vacation before they resumed their commission list.

The radio Lewis carried crackled with sound then sputtered out. He forced a door open and held it for Mystery to pad on through. Lewis followed close behind and raised his flashlight to the walls of the large room.

“Was someone trying to get through? Over,” he spoke. There was only a tub made of some metal, the bottom of it rotted out and a large crack visible in the boards beneath. Mystery sneezed as he tracked around the room.

A soft voice came through first. “Nope.” Arthur. Then Vivi’s chipper, “Nada. Are you checking the EKG reader?”

“Arthur has it,” Lewis replies. “I’ll keep you posted. Shouldn’t be signals this far out, eh?” He leaned towards the large bath basin and held his hand over the hole.

“Might be solar spots,” Vivi’s voice crackled with interference. “Art?”

“Solar spots,” Arthur’s voice echoed. “Sort of electrical pulse. Or just a wayward signal from a satellite.”

Lewis took the round dial of a thermometer from his pocket and set it just inside the hollow opening of the floor. “I got something, about those drafts we’ve been feeling. There’s been a lot of rain in the past few days, and if it’s able to collect under the house then it creates a kind of… refrigeration. It might be able to get up through the walls of the home. Over.”

Arthur’s voice sputtered through the walkie-talkie. “Ooh, yeah. They used it in old homes,” he said, life returning to his voice. “It was a revolutionary at the time. I think some homes could even collect rainwater for utilities. Did you find the basement? Over.”

“No,” Lewis says. He turns the light to Mystery as the dog brushed past his pant legs, and climbed up onto the flat surface of the tubs backside. “I’m looking at the foundation through a break in the floor.” He grunted at the foul smell of mildew and sitting water.

“Can I get a subscription to ‘Old House’ weekly?” Vivi broke in. “I’m startin’ to feel left out.”

Lewis chuckled. “Well, read more museum— ” He winced when Mystery began growling. He moved the fuchsia beam of his torch along the dogs shoulder. Mystery’s eyes glistened red under the illumination and his snout was directed, teeth bared, past Lewis’ shoulder. Lewis whipped about and raised his light. He caught something bright flash, a yellow glint, before the door to the bathroom _Whammed_ shut.

“HOLY!” Lewis staggered backwards, the nook of his knees hit the crusty edge of the tub and he nearly suffered a nasty tumble back into the hole. On reflex he dropped his flashlight and caught his balance by snagging out for the wall to his side, his hand latched onto the ornate iron bar mounted there. “Whoa!” Mystery barked at the shut door but had not moved from his spot. “Guys! Guys!” Lewis harped into the transmitter, thrust at his face. “I think I saw it! I’m not sure what… didn’t get a good look!”

Vivi’s voice sprang through, half cut off before Lewis released the toggle of the walkie-talkie. “—LY! OhMiGod! What’d it look like?”

It took Lewis a moment to register the question. He laughed, somewhat shaken, and raised his free hand to the bridge of his nose. “Vi. Didn’t I just say, I didn’t get a look?” He snapped his thumb off the speak button, and picked up the low groan of Vivi. “S’okay. We know something’s here now, probably.” As he said this, he reached over to Mystery still poised on the shelf behind the bathtub and pat the hounds shoulder.

 

The bright yellow light crept inch by inch along the rotten carpet of the halls floor. Creaks and tired groans rebounded through the walls, and every few feet the light had to give pause and let the sounds fade. They never diminished did completely, but would subside to less threatening levels. The floor seemed sturdy enough, the homes interior was left mostly intact, though worn and withered like a parched mausoleum.

Arthur froze when a cloud materialized beside his face, but after a constrained cough he let out a breath and relaxed. He was smoking, what he saw was the result of ashy vapors. With a pout he pinned the cigarette between his forefinger and thumb and took a short huff. The day had been mildly humid, balmy and with the full display of midsummer; now though, the interior of the home had become unbearably frigid. He worried that once Lewis and Vivi decided to call the evening a close, he wouldn’t be able to stay warm enough. He could sleep in the van, he felt safer outside these walls but the loneliness would be a formidable deterrent.

Briefly he reviewed what he and Lewis had discussed about the homes makeshift refrigeration. It could be possible the mechanics were broken, or like Lewis had said there was water chilling beneath the foundation. That had to be the cause.

He held the white stick trapped with his walkie-talkie hand, and took another long draw on the cigarette. “Vi,” he called. “Where you now? I think I’m done exploring this side of the house. Over.” He pulled the cigarette container from his pocket and made sure to double check that the flame on the cigarette butt was completely out, before he stuffed the used filter into the box. Like hell he’d risk pissing off some demon. “Vi? Lewis? Come in. Over.”

A door on his left was open ajar. Frowning, Arthur flashed his light along the walls of the long hall before him, confirming the status of two rooms left open upon his exploration. He was sure this door had been locked last time he came by. He stuffed the communicator into his back pocket and gripped the handle of the torch firmly in his fist. If the others called, he would hear.

Slowly, Arthur edged through the doorframe, he let the light totter along the floor, its comforting beam ambled its way over dusty furniture, book shelves or a desk, the dismantled remains of a bed. One wall held captive a window, though the tree branches outside the glass were woven together, refusing any moonlight from entering the room. The carpet, at one time vibrant and colorful with elegant designs, resembled something akin to tanned skinned stretched over gray plywood. Arthur coughed at freshly disturbed dust as he moved into the room, the floorboards rang with the announcement of his entrance for all the wicked in the world to heed. He grimaced at the audible sound.

Arthur jumped when the communicator barked to life, and died out. “Damn! Viv?” Arthur spun around twice as he fought to reach his back pocket in a hurry. He snatched up the device and brought it to his lips. “Was that you?”

“Sorry,” her voice puttered out. The signals jabber and snaps barely sound like Vivi. A string of static washed through, and Arthur hugged the receiver to his chest in an effort to drown out the backlash. In a few spurts the clear ring of Vivi’s voice came through. Sort of. “Ar—ur. –Mee— ”

“Hold on, I’m not reading you.” The air of the room was filled with a musty, acrid scent, like a museum full of old leather that had gone bed. Arthur pressed his nose into his sleeve as he entered further, his light flashing over dust spores and a ruined heap of ruble from the ceiling. “Can you repeat?” He frowned. Vivi’s voice was still garbled, the distortion becoming worse. He could hear Lewis’ voice in there too, saying something or asking, Arthur couldn’t tell; maybe they were talking to each other. He wasn’t listening to the radio at this point, he could only press it into the puffy material of his vest and wait until the frequency cleared. He shivered audibly, and hoped the others didn’t hear that somehow. A frail breeze had captivated the tree limbs outside the window, causing a somber tapping and scratching over the thin window pane.

The eerie sounds were accompanied by snippets of silver light wavering over the ancient carpet. When the light calmed, the noises didn’t fade completely. Arthur stopped where he was, communicator buried in his vest as he focused his senses outward. He saw nothing, but he could hear it. Movement. No, steps. Slow, rocking steps. The floorboards creaking, faintly, but the sound was no doubt there. Arthur pressed his thumb onto the power button and cut off the haze completely.

“Vi?” he called, voice hitting an octave higher. “That you?” No response. The steps did cease though. “H-hello?”

A terrible thought came to his mind. What if… what if the lakeside home was not as abandoned as they had previously believed? Sure, he and Vivi had combed the rooms early in the day – it was part of safety protocol – if there had been a squatter they would have found him, Mystery would have picked up something.

The timid whimper of wood brought Arthur out of his stupor. It was low, almost nonexistent, and it was just beyond the next doorway.

Arthur moved as silently as he could toward the heap of ruble near the corner and huddled down. Once settled he clicked off his light and stared towards the direction, where he presumed the doorway to be. It was difficult to judge in the dark, one lost their sense of direction. After some time the room began to come into focus, or so it seemed. The sounds became inaudible as before, possibly gone for good. From the hole above raised a low whistling, most likely somewhere in the attic from broken eaves in the roof. The twitter became deeper, the hole in the ceiling hummed. Arthur peered between pieces of cracked timber, towards the open door of the adjacent hall. He could see the calm moonlight stationary on the floor—

The steps began again. Slow, uneven, Sometimes pausing then moving on. Arthur couldn’t identify if they were in the room, or elsewhere. Was the door across from him into a closet, or a connecting room? He swore, he and Vivi never came through this room, it wasn’t here before. He tried to stifle his breathing, as the creaking boards came closer, echoing off the walls within the room he hid in.

There was nothing there, nothing visible to his eyes. It was hopeless for Arthur, he couldn’t break his eyes off when the glimmer of light from the windows flashed out. It was there, he couldn’t find it but no doubt it was there. Whatever it was, it would hear him if he blinked; could smell his fear. He tensed his hands around the walkie-talkie and flashlight in his hands. If he had to run… oh god, the moment he gasped, it would find him.

“ _Oh no. No-no-no._ ” Arthur winced when the communicator he was gripping creaked. The shape breaking through the moonlight paused, and seemed to rear up. “ _What? What IS that?_ He wanted to call out. It was tall, maybe the same size as Lewis, but Arthur knew that is wasn’t Lewis. Lewis would give a warning first that he was there. This thing was hunting.

A strip of light lashed across the form as it stepped across the carpet. Arthur caught something white, glittering lights like jewels, a sharp shoulder, but nothing much else. He shut his eyes and buried his face into the side of his shoulder and bit into his vest sleeve; he curled down more while pressing himself into the edge of the wall and the ruble. When the gale in the attic began to die down, Arthur began to concentrate on the low pulse of his throbbing heart. .

“ _Won’t find me! Can’t see me. Eyes closed, can’t see me if I don’t see it_.” Arthur could hear his trembling breath, and he fought not to let out the slightest gasp. “ _Go away. Go away. No one’s here. No one!_ ” He choked a bit when the steps began, this time very near him. “ _It won’t find mind. It don’t know where. Can’t see. It CAN’T see._ ” Arthur tightened his eyes shut and waited. Waited for years as the noise got very close, the steady vibrations of movement directly beside him. It was looking at him, wasn’t it? It found him and now it was waiting for him to open his eyes and see it. “ _No._ ” There was no point in hiding his strangled breathing. He brought his arms up over his head and covered his face with the crook of his elbow. “ _No! You can’t make me! Never!_ ” He felt an icy draft on his arm, like a breath.

“NO!” Arthur shrieked. “Go ‘way! GO!—”

“Art!” The voice made him wince. And all at once the oppressive cold and stale air were gone. Evaporated completely, the air was warmed and breathable, almost tolerable even for him. Arthur ripped his head from his arms. He wasn’t aware he had been crying. A bright fuchsia light was on him, and a shape behind it. “Are you hurt?”

Arthur blinked. “Yes. I mean, No!” He rubbed his hands up his sleeveless arms and shuddered. It took a moment to get his bearings, and Lewis gave him that time. “Did you… see anything?” Arthur asked, as he raised his gaze above the ruble.

Lewis moved smoothly beside Arthur and knelt, his own torch aimed at the moth eaten carpet of the floor. “No. Nothing.” He glanced briefly the way Arthur was staring, but never diverted the light from his friend. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Arthur kept his gaze on the far side of the room, where the sounds had originated. “I didn’t get a good look at it,” he murmured.

“But you’re certain it didn’t hurt you?” Lewis pressed. Arthur paused, and shook his head. “Why didn’t you put down a protective circle?”

“Panicked,” Arthur admits. “I could hear it. It was walking. And… wait, where’s Mystery?” Life returned to Arthur’s eyes, and he checked past Lewis’ knee.

Lewis perked, and turned his light around the room checking the floors and furniture, checking anywhere a white dog could hide himself. “Mystery? Mystery?” He whistled, but there was no sign of the dog. No sound. Only the wind twittering through the shattered gaps in the walls of the house around them.

 

The door refused to budge. It hadn’t been this stubborn earlier, in the daylight, however Vivi could fix that. She pressed her shoulder to the panel and pushed. That didn’t work either, so she was forced to take a step back and charge at the door. The door flew open right before she collided with the cracked wood and Vivi stumbled past the now frozen door, into the musty room. She jerked her light across the floors and raised it to the walls, in her erratic steps she narrowly missed a cracked stool laid in her path. Around her on the walls hung picture frames, but whatever was held within the frames years ago had rotted and drooped to the floor beneath. The room was probably a gallery of sort at some point, long abandoned and forgotten. It seemed a shame.

“Art?” she called, following her light. No answer. She stepped carefully across the floor, always wary of the broken furniture or rotted planks beneath her feet. Vivi tried again to call into her communicator, but she was met with only harsh scratching. “Ugh. Very clever, whoever you are.” She revolved as she moved along the floor, her light flashing at the darkest edges of the room where subtle movement lurked. As she moved, Vivi pulled her backpack around her side and stuffed the communicator within. If the others tried to get through she would hear it, but she needed the camera.

Vivi adjusted the settings of the device, then turned the lens in the direction her flashlight beam faced. A picture, two. She checked the images, glancing up occasionally to assure herself nothing was overlooked in the shadows. In the dark everything had changed, or that was the impression she got. She had numerous theories to explain this phenomenon but none ever panned out. Oh well.

One of the images startled her. Vivi caught her breath and studied the snapshot of the gleaming pair of eyes, the bright pale shape of a nose and…. Her expression dropped. She raised her torch to the corner of the room, near a blotted window where a pale face stared back. “Hoot hoot,” she called, to the owl that was perched within a broken space of the ceilings corner. “You scared me!”

The owl did not appreciate the disturbance. With a screech and a rustle of feathers, the avian spun around to dive back into the broken opening. Further scratching and ‘chirps’ came from within, but her company departed for good.

Vivi let exhaled another tight breath. “That really did startle me,” she said, and a little louder says, “Are you going to show yourself? Or are you still bothering my friend?” A clatter comes from the shadows at her back and she pivots, nearly tripping over the leg of a chair. She aimed her light down, but caught the flash of something… odd.

It wasn’t a chair, or the leg of some furniture. Vivi had already scouted the floor carefully and was positive nothing underfoot would catch her off guard. The room was practically empty, aside from the decayed portraits hung up on the walls.

Her blue light moved across a dusty moth eaten shred of cloth. The cloth was deflated and swathed over bleached bone and moss filled sleeves. Vivi gasped when she brought the light up to the skull, eye sockets filled with fuzzy black algae, jaw snapped back in a jagged snarl.

“Cool!” She stuffed her torch handle under one arm and raised the camera. She managed one flash, when the floor… the corpse began to sink into the dark shade its clutter of remains cast under Vivi’s light. She remained motionless, only watching as the dark mass slithered through the planks of wood that comprised the floor; a superimposed dark shade stained into the wood. Its withering, animated edges seeped out and surrounded the edges of her lights bright halo, and pulsed towards the shadow that mashed behind Vivi.

“And… what are you doing now?” She took a step back, as the corpse sank completely out of sight. The moment the corpse was gone from sight, the mass of inky slithering shot out at her shadow and merged with it. Vivi halted her retreat, her foot was caught on something. She took the flashlight and directed it down, but could see nothing physical holding her foot. “Oh come on!” She aimed the light aside, hearing the flutter of wings. Was it the owl? She saw nothing, save for the hostile mark spreading outward from her shadow, and across the floor. The walls surrounding her were black, aimless absorbing black, which her light dove off for eternity. “Okay. You’re unfriendly. I got that.” Her other foot was locked in place. “Would an apology suffice?”

The floor disappeared. It didn’t exactly disappear, Vivi was still standing somewhere but her feet began to sink into the blackness that coated the room; or it was rising up around her like a surge of foul water. “Oh no you don’t!” She swung her backpack off and dug around until she had located a container of salt. “Do ove sprave čistoću!” She shoved her flashlight into the backpack and hung it by one strap over her shoulder, half shut. With the container of salt and no light, she moved by memory. Vivi poured a palm full of salt into her hand and began marking a semi-circle around her position, the same action was also done with the salt container in her other hand. “Sam štitili od tebe!” Working in limited light and losing light was tricky, but she had done this so often it was in her muscle memory. She brought her hands to meet before her, and connected the two ends of the circle.

A harsh shriek wailed out, and the shadows rising around her legs recoiled like water on a scalding skillet. With her legs now free Vivi fell to her knees, the bag lost its perch from her shoulder and dropped to the now bare wood floor. Some provision and bottles tumbled out of the partially closed bag, along with the lit flashlight; the lights somber glow sprang through the heavy shrouds surrounding her as it rolled away. For a short spell Vivi tracked the patches revealed while she recovered. A short distance from where she crouched, something black on the floor glint, like obsidian.

She didn’t get the chance to check clarify what was there, a feral snarl tore through the room and suddenly the entirety of the black void lifted and the room was again just a room. Mystery charged past Vivi and lunged in the same direction the light faced. When Vivi looked up, she saw a pair of shimmering eyes fade into the ceiling. Mystery persists with yips and huffs as he paced over the floor, his ears pulled back and his teeth bared; eventually though, his hostility began to wane.

Vivi pulled herself upright, she fixed her hair band and brushed some of the dust that clung to her skirt. “That was close.” She reached around to pat at her shoes, and checked for any mars or scratches. “These are brand new, y’know. There better be no scuffs on them.” She smiled when Mystery came back over to her, the retrieved torch carried in his mouth. “I’m glad you showed up. Not that… I couldn’t take care of myself.” She took the offered light, and Mystery yapped. The dog tiptoed closer to Vivi and lowered his head and bumped foreheads with her.

The two made haste to collect up the items that had fallen from Vivi’s bag. Once finished Vivi pulled the backpacks straps over her shoulders and stood, her light sweeping across the room toward the way she came from. “Is Lewis safe?” she asked. “What about Arthur?” Mystery whines and tilted his head. “Can you find where you separated?” Mystery barked, and turned his snout to the floor boards. He trotted out the open door with Vivi close behind.

Mystery circled around outside the room while Vivi stood nearby and waited, her blue light stretching up and down the peeling wallpaper and cracked plaster of the walls. Little grumble sounds came from Mystery as he stopped at a particular spot on the floor.

“Well,” Vivi said, “shouldn’t we try this way then? But….” She spun about, the creeping sense of being watched bore into her. “Is it just me, or did these halls change again?” Mystery growled in his throat. The dog raised his snout to face the direction Vivi was staring, her flashlight fading into the dark depths.

What caught his attention next was a faint sound. Mystery swung his head away and perked his ears, concentrating keenly. Ahha. He barked, glancing Vivi’s way before he trotted along the hall. I need that light.

“I’m coming,” Vivi grumbled. Then she heard it too, and soon they were running full speed down the corridor. A few rooms Vivi had explored earlier were left closed, but she was certain each had been left open to mark exploration. If the doors had been thrown shut by a stray draft she wouldn’t heard; though, she had been lost for several minutes, if not longer.

“We’re any of these doors open when you came through?” she called, not slowing. Mystery looked back and forth between the shut doors, but never replied. When they reached the corridors end, Mystery skid on his rear paws and came to a halt. Vivi dashed around the corner and collided with Lewis, as he rushed up from the adjacent side.

“Dangit!” Lewis snapped. He couldn’t do much but stand there, as Arthur plowed into him from behind. He pressed a palm to his face and turned his light down, between the groaning figures that lay stunned on the floor. “Any survivors?”

“Mystery, come on. I don’t wanna drown too.” Arthur pushed the dog away, as he crawled over Vivi to console poor Arthur with aggressive nuzzles. “Thank you, nonetheless.”

Lewis bit down on the torch handle he carried, and pulled Vivi up a hand and plucked Arthur up by the backpack. “You look paler than usual, Vi. Did something happen?” He let Arthur plop down onto his feet, and directed his flashlight beam back to the floor.

“Yeah,” she breathed. Vivi fixed her head band and brushed some of her blue hair out of her eyes. “I may have upset him a bit. I was— ” Her eyes cast down, and she frowned. “Hey.” She maneuvered her flashlight to the side of the floor, where a space in boards was missing. “What do you make of this?” She shifts to the side of the broken patch of floor, when Arthur shuffles closer down beside her. Vivi shines her light through the gap and Arthur stands on his hands and knees peering inside.

“Something shiny?” Arthur suggests. He squints and reaches over to push Vivi’s light a bit. Whatever is within the floor shimmered. “Hard to tell, but… I think that’s the lower floor. I’m not sticking my hand down in there.” He reached a hand over to Mystery when the dog lay beside his knee, and scratched his neck.

Lewis hovered over the two peering down, but like Arthur intoned it was difficult to gauge in the dark if it was something under the floorboards that glistened or if it was a room below. “I don’t remember a shiny room,” he added. Before Lewis went, on he leaned back and surveyed the atmosphere around them. For now the home was silent, but for a few off creaks and scuttling in the ceiling above. Animals, he decided. Sounded like mice or birds. “Misty and I were thorough in our scouting. Right?”

Mystery gurgled. He’ll get back to Lewis later, scratches were going on. Mystery pushed himself into a sitting position and leaned the side of his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

After a beat of quiet pondering Vivi snapped her fingers, the sudden motion and sound made Arthur squeak. “I have an idea,” she announced dramatically, and grabbed Arthur by his shoulder. “Do you have some twine?”

Arthur wrestles some control over his pulsing heart, and cocked his brow. “I might have some cheese, if you please.” He already had his backpack down and was going through its interior.

“How ‘bout some bad puns?” Lewis chimed. “The really punny ones.”

“I see what you did there,” Arthur sniggered. He handed Vivi the spool of twine and replaced the backpack on his shoulders. “Are we going to receive a briefing?”

“Lew, your knife?” Vivi took the offered knife, and set it aside. She unloaded her backpack and dug around for the walkie-talkie. “We’re gonna find that room. Even if it’s been hidden. Art, is your comm. shut off?”

Arthur tensed, and dug through his pockets. “They weren’t working earlier,” he griped. He flipped the switch on the back. Vivi pressed the speak button on hers and spoke into it.

“Testing-testing. Echo. Keep yours and make sure it stays on,” she said. Vivi tied the end of the twine around the short antenna of her communicator, then, lowered it down into the hole. The string remained tight for several feet before it slacked, and Vivi tested the line to make certain it didn’t snag. She tied a section of the cord to a bent panel of the smashed floor, cut the spool free and returned Lewis’ knife. “In case we can’t find the room.”

“Good thinking,” Lewis commended. “But I’m sure we’ll find it. If Arthur will lend us his lungs.”

Arthur frowned and glowered up at Lewis. “Hardy har har.”

Only a general estimation of where the mysterious room was could be made. Lewis and Mystery had gone through each room, every nook and cranny visible in their previous inspection. Judging by their location in the home, the room had to be somewhere in the center of the home. It was in the kitchen where Lewis saw his error.

An open corridor was partially hidden but still accessible, behind some fallen ruble and support beams from the ceiling. “Careful,” Lewis murmured. He held back as Vivi strafed through the clear space in the ruble, followed by Mystery at her hells, then Arthur. Lewis took a last glimpse of kitchen – the wood countertops, a rotted pump sink – before he squeezed through the opening.

The corridor was some sort of tight access, Lewis could barely turn around without knocking his elbows against the surrounding walls. Most of the musty carpet remained intact, and Mystery began an explosion of sneezing, each snuffle harder than the previous.

“Take it easy,” Lewis whispered. Arthur was speaking into his communicator, and Vivi listened avidly for the sound of his voice within the walls. “Or you’re gonna need some Benadryl before you go to bed.” Mystery meant to snarl a reply, but he had another sneeze to share.

“Next time we stop by home,” Arthur says, “I’ll see about picking up some masks from work. Might be good to have on hand.” He spoke into the walkie-talkie, but thus far had heard no reply.

“Maybe speak louder?” Vivi reasoned. “I’ll reimburse your uncle.”

A little jarred, Arthur raised his voice some as he spoke into the communicator. “Naw! He likes to give away safety equipment if he thinks it’ll keep us from doing something reckless!”

Lewis was stifling laughter. “Price check on aisle nine?” Arthur tried to reach behind him to swing through the blinding light at Lewis. “I couldn’t resist!”

“All right, Artie,” Vivi growled. Mystery squeezed by her, out of the way as Vivi dragged Arthur away by his vest. “Don’t bring the whole house down.”

“By my word, I’ll have my revenge,” Arthur cackled. “You’ll see!”

“Bring it, hermano!” Lewis stopped when Vivi pressed a single hand to his chest, her other arm shoved Arthur on ahead.

“I swear by the power of Greyskull, I’ll take you both on,” Vivi snarled. And that was the end of that, though it didn’t stop the occasional jab or the snickers. At least they were back on track, sort of.

On either side of the narrow corridor was a door spaced every few feet. Vivi would pause and set her ear to one door then the next, while Arthur walked on ahead prattling into the radio. One door Mystery stopped beside and began scratching at the wood panel. Vivi put her ear to the door and listened carefully. By now Arthur was done, he was making grumble snort noises into the radio transmitter, until Vivi popped his shoulder.

“Ow? You hear it?” Arthur asked, perking.

“Yeah.” Vivi replied. The doorknob spun in her grip, loose and worthless. “I don’t doubt this is a room it won’t want us in.” She moved back then lunged forward, smacking her shoulder into the door. Mystery and Arthur shared a glance.

Lewis held up his hands, and said, “Whoa-whoa-whoa. Maybe let me go?” Arthur tugged Vivi out of the way, and the three stood clustered together in the tight hall. Lewis stood before the door and pocketed his flashlight; this allowed the light to hit the low ceiling above them a cast a pale fuchsia glow onto the walls at their shoulders. He pressed his back into the wall behind him, then gave the door a few taps with his knuckles – up high and trailed down-down, found a preferred spot—

“Snore!” Arthur blurted. Vivi giggled. “Get on with it, man. I think Mystery’s suffocating.”

Lewis grinned their way. “Just gathering energy.” He brought his fists up and slammed them against the doors upper portion, and the entire frame burst in. The door clattered within the room, and Lewis, the group, all of them gaped, stunned. “WHAT?”

“Did you mean to KILL the door?” Arthur yelped. He gestured wildly with his arms. “That door is dead! You murdered a door! You-you… door serial killer!”

“I didn’t mean to do that!” Lewis gaged.

Vivi buried her face in her palms. “If you’ve upset that spirit, I am deducting this from your pay.”

“You’re paying us now?” Lewis cried, her way.

“It was meant to be a surprise. We were doing so well.” Vivi fumbled with the light between her hands, and angled it to the yawning black swirl of the open room where Lewis was poised. “What’s inside?

“Dust? Mold?” As Arthur pocketed his communicator and twirled his light around. Mystery barked up at him. “Maybe treasure. Or the lost bodies of a certain colony that vanished in the woods?” He jerked his head up and raised his light. Something… scuttled in the walls, or on the above floor. Fluttering and scratching, maybe animals. It sounded big. He cursed and rubbed at his eyes when silt from the cracked wood fell into his eyes. He gave a sharp screech when a hand grabbed his.

“Art! Chill,” Vivi hissed. “It’s just me.” She raised her arm and aimed the light at their clasped hands. “Stay together.”

Arthur took a shallow breath. The dust still hovered around them. “Right. Got it.”

“Psst. Hey,” Lewis whispered. He was already in the room, but poked his head out from beyond the dreary gloom. “Check this out.”

Arthur let Vivi lead him, though it was impossible to get around or away in the claustrophobic corridor. “What is it?” Arthur inquired, as Vivi tugged his hand. He coughed at the fresh cloud of haze that had lifted when the door went down. The room was stuffy, sealed off for centuries, days maybe; he can’t place the smell.

When Arthur raised his flashlight, its gold hue intermingles with the purple and blues glittering in a weaving color of spectrum; though in the absence of white it is only black. The contrast reminds him of one of those prism shirts he’d seen online. The entire room glitters and at first Arthur believes there’s so much dust kicked up, that it catches the light sweeping across the furniture of a forgotten era. His arms tremble in the cold draft of the room, and he can see it’s not dust. The room is filled with junk.

“What the crepes?” Lewis muttered. He crossed the room to a vanity table, covered in bits of jewelry, a few rotten belts. On the desk surface rests dozens of outdated cameras, among them bits of metal. “I somehow doubt all this stuff was just left here by visitors.”

Vivi found the twine tether, but the walkie-talkie was not attached. She moved her flashlight down the twisted cord, plucked up the end and let it run through her hand. The cord was ripped apart, snapped or chewed through. “Hmm.”

“Maybe rats,” Arthur offered. The scuttling and flutters grow louder, restless. Arthur moves his beam from a pile of coins on a bed, towards the ceiling. “Collecting shiny crap.” He turns his light down to the edge of the room, and paused. “Huh. Mystery.”

Mystery gives a yip and turns from examining a collection or marbles left in a corner. He pads over to Arthur and stops, ears raised high. A curious ‘urf’ is his only reply

“I know, right?” Between his fingers Arthur holds Mystery’s bright red tag. “I thought you looked different. Here.” He kneels down and sets his flashlight near his feet, and begins working at Mystery collar.

Vivi looked Arthur and Mystery’s way, as she moves over to Lewis side. “The comm.’s missing,” she said, and holds up the end of the twine. “It has to be in this room. It wouldn’t take it anywhere else.”

Lewis pulls out his walkie-talkie and tests the switch. “Hello? Where are you, walker-talker?” The color from his face drains, and Vivi has that same dawning horror in her eyes as she and Lewis share the gaze.

A low humming began to rise within the room, raising in volume. It sounded close, too close, right in the midst of their group. The walls surrounding them shimmered with bits of metal, plastic, rings and lost pieces of jewelry. Except one patch on the black wall, where Arthur’s torch was no facing.

Arthur winced as the ring on Mystery’s collar punctured his finger. Without thinking about it, he brought his finger to his mouth and nursed the wound. He nearly bit that finger off when a heavy thud lurched from the floor right next to the two. Mystery had been frowning at him at the time, but now the dogs eyes were wide and pinned to the side of his head. Arthur followed the gaze, while his hand fumbled blindly at the dusty floor. Arthur gulped as he raised the revealing beam, to a pair of dusty slacks beside his shoulder. The higher the light rose, the louder the humming became. The sound was dull, muffled, as if the room was plunged underwater. Arthur wanted to stop but he couldn’t. Some sick curiosity kept him going, he had to know, or it would haunt him perpetually in his dreams. That was, until the light was just below the blotted, wrinkled collar.

An inhuman shriek rose up from the thing, its eyes glint and something flashed through the air. Arthur felt himself yanked back by his backpack straps, Mystery was hauled back by his collar, half choked by the force. In the growing dark something crashed, and the sound of scratching and buzzing, thrumming sounds lifted from the surrounding shadows.

“Out! OUT! That’s done it, we are GONE!” Lewis snarled. He pushed Arthur and Mystery ahead, after Vivi who was already diving through the doorway. “RUN! RUN! Don’t look back!”

“I didn’t get a clear picture!” Vivi hollered. She was sprinting ahead, half bent forward as she struggled to pack away her supplies, save for the light. Yes, even the camera had to be put away, though she knew that precaution would be regretted. At her back Arthur was crying or laughing, she couldn’t tell.

“You’re a treat! Vi!” Arthur gasped. On Arthur’s heels Mystery panted, his paws drumming the carpet in rapid succession. “I would love to stay and let you get all the spooky pictures you want! But that thing DID NOT HAVE A HEAD!”

“A decapitation?” Vivi squealed. Arthur moaned. Vivi fell forward, tripping on something of the ruble at the corridors edge. She went skidding through the narrow space of the timber obstruction, and slid out onto the kitchen floor. Arthur was directly behind her and staggers over Vivi at the last second, keeps going and crashes into one of the wood countertops built against the wall, but Arthur’s body still thinks it has momentum and flops over, somersaults, onto the countertop and lays there, legs dangling above his head. The torch rolls out of his grip and drops to the floor below.

“Ow….”

Mystery snatched up the lost flashlight and twisted to Vivi, growling and snuffling at her face. Up! Up!

“You in one piece Arthur?” Vivi snapped. She made it to her feet and stumbled towards the counter that Arthur lay on.

“No,” said the downed figure. “My mind is gone.” He screeched when Vivi dragged him off the counter, and put him on his feet.

“We’ll get it back later,” she snorted. “Move!” Lewis sort of danced through the ruble wreckage and teetered after the group as they tore out of the kitchen area. Mystery dashed ahead of them, carrying Arthur’s flashlight. The yellow glow flashed through doorways left open, and in the depths of the looming gloom Arthur was sure he saw glimmering tawny orbs watching them, accusing them. He picked up the pace.

The large entrance room was not as they left it. The floorplan was similar but the walls were eroded, showing algae and bristling black spores, everything was rundown, as if the home had decayed years during the time they had wandered around. Arthur raised his arm and pressed his nose into his sleeve. “Ugh! Smells like sludge!”

An ecstatic shrieking rang out through the upper floors, vibrating through the walls and glass windows. Over and over the cry sang out growing harsher with each spill. Mystery spun in place with the flashlight, ears pinned back under the assault of the atrocious sounds. They refused to let up or pause.

“Art! Get the van opened up!” Lewis snatched the keys from his pocket and tossed them Arthur’s way. “Take my light too.” He hurried by Arthur, shoving the torch into his hand before he followed Vivi around to the side of the room. As Arthur darted towards the open front door, he snagged one of the larger bags and was gone. Vivi was doing the same. “Maybe we should leave it!”

“Our stuff’s expensive,” Vivi cries over the den of harsh squeals. “It’s upset but not dangerous.” She winced as another shriek tore out, by now all the rooms were an acoustic of wailing. “Carry what we can.”

Mystery twirled around and growled towards the corridor the group had spilled from. He bristles the fur on his shoulders and snarled around the torch he held.

Something was crashing through the walls, all around them. Vivi slid across the top of the table and lands beside Mystery, crouching. She takes the light from his jaws and turns it to the hall. In the dark something flashed, glittered. Plaster fell from the ceiling, and the low hum was approaching from the dark where the torch was aimed, but the light couldn’t penetrate the wall of black.

Lewis had slung one of the overnight bags slung over his shoulder, when a pair of paws wrapped around his neck. “What now?” Lewis barely gave the dog latched to him a look, before he took note of Vivi slowly backing away from the corridor. “Vi! Time to go!” He darted to Vivi and heaved her up underarm. As Lewis twists away he manages to check back into the corridor, and spies what Vivi must have seen. A dark shadow sprints at them, yellow light flashed above its shoulders. Where the head should have been.

Arthur skid to a halt when Lewis intercepted him at the front door, a brief protest squawked out of Arthur as Lewis snatched him up and tore across the porch. Lewis vaulted over the porch railing and sprinted the last few yards to the van. In the doorway emerged the shadow fiend seeking its quarry.

“What in— ” Arthur choked. “Lewis! Faster Lewis! Are you at your optimal speed?” Arthur was upside down patting at Lewis’ back, occasionally glancing up and backwards.

“God Art,” Lewis pants. “I’m a man not a jet!”

Vivi crossed her arms. “Could’ve fooled me.” She had the misfortune of facing forward, and being unable to face the danger. She tried to look behind her when Arthur gave a sharp squeal.

“Must go faster! Lew’us!” Arthur stammered. The black shroud was charging at them, it’s movements mirrored Lewis’ frantic charge. “Faster! It’s COMING!”

Lewis sprang into the open back of the van and slumped sideways, dropping his cargo. He was about to hop seats when a dry squeak popped out of Vivi.

“Lew! Art!” Mystery snarled and bit down onto Vivi’s shoulder sleeve and dug his paws into the plush carpet of the vans floor. He was skidding forward as Vivi was dragged backwards, her palms scraping at the floor. “A little help!”

What clung to Vivi was a gnarled black hand, glimmering like obsidian in the light of the fallen neglected torches rolling around. A ragged shriek tore out of the thing that had Vivi by the ankles. As if it were cackling.

“Art! Drive!” Lewis snagged Vivi around her middle, braced his heels to the sides of the doorframe and pulled back. But the dead thing had unnatural strength and heaved back with triple the drive, squealing. Lewis never took his attention from it. “ART!”

Arthur had locked up. He sat on his butt staring, mind blank, shoulders quivering so hard the whole van rattled. Lewis still calls to him but Arthur can’t hear him, he can only hear the harsh humming of the corpse.

A feral snarl splint from Mystery as he tore around and bit into Arthur’s wrist. “AGH!” That snapped him out of it. Arthur flipped over and dives into the driver side seat, his back curled upwards as he lay with his legs bent up above his head. He plucked the key from the cup holder and jammed it into the ignition. The van started up like an answered prayer, and Arthur jammed his bleeding hand down onto the gas pedal.

“ **Give… BACK!** ” The shadow spirit reached for the bumper of the van, one arm locked to Vivi’s ankle. The van launched out of its grip, as did the blue stockings of the girl. Dust and gravel kicked up into its chest as the van fishtailed out of the clearing, and flew out onto the wooded grove. The shadow stood there watching as its quarry tore off into the night and vanished around a tall bend of trees. Shortly, the air became tranquil, insects chirped in the night and it was all alone. It turned its shoulders and ‘peered’ down at its trophy.

As soon as Vivi was out of the fiends grip and Lewis could pull her safely from the open, swinging doors of the van, he coiler his arms around her and held her. Lewis pressed his face onto Vivi’s hair, but raised his eyes over the wisps of blue to stare off into the dark clearing that led to the path of the lakeside home. An ominous dome of shadow lingered in that area, but it wasn’t following. The silence of the van seemed foreign.

“L-Lewis?” Vivi pushed out of his hold a bit and stares up at him. “You… saved me.”

Lewis blinked at her, and briefly evaluated the claim. “Well… I uh— ” he cut off when Vivi flung her arms around his neck. “I kind of… did.”

“My hero!” she gushed. “That was quick thinking.”

Lewis blushed and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’know, I wasn’t about to let something steal you. No matter what….” He let his voice trail off. There wasn’t much else to say. Lewis was still shaken, and he didn’t like the back doors open; regardless if or not the shade could follow, he wouldn’t risk it. He still felt protective of Vivi, and had some irrational fear that letting her out of his embrace would invite the fiend to snatch her away and drag her all the way back to its dark seclusion.

Mystery snorted, and raised a paw to adjust his askew glasses. He flattened his earsdown when Vivi leaned out of Lewis arms and rubbed his face between her hands. “I didn’t forget you, Mystery,” Vivi said. “What would we do without you?” Mystery puffed up his chest and smirked.

 

“Art’s doing the getaway,” Lewis murmured. He… still didn’t want to let Vivi go, even if they were far down the road at this point and gaining distance. Dust and rocks kicked up into the undercarriage and the van occasionally swerved. That seemed bad. Lewis put himself between Vivi and the backdoor, and skillfully leaned out to take one door and haul it shut, then the other. Better, but he was still uneasy. It might take some time to get over the experience.

“Help,” called from the front. Lewis and Vivi stepped forward, or Lewis did. Vivi stopped and knelt down.

“Artie,” Lewis said, as he leaned on the middle of the bench seat. “How?” He gestured Arthur, crumpled up over himself, face to the steering wheel, one hand on the gas. “That’s kind of dangerous.”

“Would you just push me over!” Arthur retorts. “My backs not meant to bend like this!”

Another gasp came from Vivi. “He stole my shoe!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What great friends. Out on adventure, always looking out for one another.


	27. Chapter 27

**Uninvited**   
  


They were cutting it close. Though tight time management was kept over the course of the traveled miles, plus the few days they drove none stop – with the stops and time invested into their ‘side quests – it was going to be another close call. Plus, the firmly established straight drive back, and Vivi had already judged there would be no time to stop, save for the absolute necessities.

That is, if all members were able and accounted for.

Vivi set aside her laptop and leaned over in the passenger seat to stare out the side window. As they coasted idly down the road she viewed the smooth sidewalks and narrow roads boarded by muddy slush, some tree bare of leaves or some oaks proud and full beneath the onslaught of the cold. She tries to focus on their primary job, the paid assignment, what the college had sent them out specifically to do. It felt like years ago. Seeing through to the conclusion of some very potent mysteries had been a fulfilling experience, her hope was only that they were indeed growing as a team and she wasn’t just imagining their advancement.

The report for the actual assignment had been fairly low-key if she recalled correctly, but of course she couldn’t bring forth highlights of the report. If Vivi had doubts, she wouldn’t have mapped out the course they had taken. No hostility, just the typical poltergeist activities the family… the Hershey’s? wanted an investigation of, for their home. There should be no complications, and they could call the investigation a success.

A low groan and a cold nose pressed under her arm startled her briefly, but it was only Mystery with that mournful look in his eyes. Vivi gives him the briefest smile and loops her arm over his shoulders, Mystery pulls himself up more onto her side and rests his head on Vivi’s shoulder. “You cold?” she hums, into his neck. Mystery was shivering. Poor Arthur, not even the heater would help.

“Was it right, or straight?” Arthur asked. He was slowing at an intersection, the light was still green but he needed to be in the right lane or they’d probably get lost for the better part of an hour.

“Right,” Vivi answered. She leans over for the smart phone left in the cup holder – a few bits of gum wrappers and variety of stained cups are stacked in both cupholders. She digs out the phone and checks the notary page. There was a rolled up piece of notebook paper, which she took out and straightened. Mystery gurgled as his cushion shifted about, but he didn’t move from Vivi’s side. “Okay, if we were lucid when drawing up this map, there’ll be this roundabout. Bypass it, and take an off ramp into this little neighborhood. Should be a lot of trees.”

Arthur nods, bleary eyes focused on the road, throat irritated by every little breath. The traffic could be worse, but there was always the random sour apple in the bunch that insisted green lights must be stopped at, and brake checks were proper road etiquette. “Good, okay,” he mumbled. “That sums up about every neighborhood across the globe. Name specifics would be nice, and maybe an address.” He hiccupped and gagged on his sore voice. The thick little hacks endured, until he reached snatched up one of the stained plastic cups in the cup holder. The fluid was tinted brown, diluted and hours old, but it helped.

“Maybe we weren’t as lucid as we thought,” Vivi added. She holds up the map for Arthur to see, her breath misting as she exhaled. “We forgot those things.” The map consisted of scribbles and lines, a few poorly illustrated self-notes such as ‘turn here’ and a black bar of ink, along with a vague message of ‘this is bad’.

Arthur groaned. “I’ll see what I can do.” He signaled when he came to the roundabout, and kept going. He did not want to get stuck in the circular road, seeking a calm spot in the perpetual ring of traffic for the remainder of the day.

They had only seen well-kept landscape and trimmed lawns across the city, most packed down with heavy frost. Salt trucks roved around making frequent stops to lay thin layers of gravel on some of the overpasses, and select areas where tall buildings refused the light of sun to touch earth/asphalt. The roads followed the roll of the terrain, slopping down curving hills, and a few of the local shops in the cities center still gleamed with light from the early morning. After several days of travel, the Mystery Skulls managed to arrive in the city at the right hour for work hours to have begun long ago, leaving much of the rush hour traffic vacant from the inner roads.

For the time Arthur drove one handed, while he held the Styrofoam cup to his mouth and gnawed around the edge creating dozens and dozens of tiny indents with his teeth. When he began to reduce speed and coast along a bend in the road, Vivi leaned around and over to dig around in the back directly behind the bench seat. She avoids looking further into the vans back than is necessary, instead she quickly claims what was sought and plopped down onto her seat with one of her personal backpacks. From the interior she pulls out a small blue colored booklet and unzips the side, the interior walls are fixed with straps and packed tight with pictures.

“I should really clean this out,” she mutters, as she goes through the bundles of pictures. A few tumble out onto Mystery, and the dog grumbles as he pushes himself up away from the sharp points jabbing into his coat. “But I really wanna create a portfolio with these, for later. Y’know?” Arthur makes a little sound, but continues to nibble at the Styrofoam cup. “Thanks.” Vivi says to Mystery, when the hound had leaned down to the floorboard and plucked up the fallen pictures. Vivi takes the offered photos and studies the images, musing over when and where they had acquired the specific shots. Print outs were always a must for the more memorable cases she, Mystery, and Arthur had taken – as keepsakes. It barely registered she hadn’t acknowledged Lewis as a member of their team, only because she couldn’t recall which adventures he had accompanied them on. It hurt, to dwell on the fact and hold the reminder. She tried to think but nothing ever came of it.

Vivi relaxed into the vibrations of the van, and studied one picture in particular. It was a dark image, the flash had gone off and the image of a woman was clearly lifted on the photograph; she wore a swollen, frilly dress and was descending some steps, high in the background was a cracked window in a gray stone wall. Normally, a picture like that would be unremarkable, but the woman the photographer had captured was not standing upon the steps, that were far beneath her suspended and outdated boots.

There was a surplus of images packed into the back of the notebook case, all of which Vivi was certain she had never seen before. She kept tugging out the bundles from the straps of the booklet, the whole time Mystery’s eyes flicked from her face to her hands working to loosen the photos. Some were so old they were beginning to stick together.

Vivi cleared her throat as she set one of the newer pictures aside on the dashboard, while another group was left balanced on her skirt around Mystery. She kept what she had gathered so far pinned to the notebook pressed into the seat by her knee, her other hand held up a bundle of the pictures. “Arthur?” He didn’t take his eyes from the road, but he had released his grip on the cup and set his hand onto the steering wheel. “Art?” Arthur moved his lower jaw to spin the edge of the cup around with his teeth. “Did I take these pictures before… the Cave?”

This time he did glance her way, but quickly snapped his eyes back to the road. The van paused at a stop sign, and Arthur took his time before moving forward. “Yeh.”

Pictures of shadows in windows, the upper half of a man seated at a long bar, bright glimmering eyes peering through doorways, odd crouching blurs beside a bush or the corner of a building, always peering up at the photographer; all photographs of past assignments, but none of them as a group.

“Did I… ever take pictures of just us?” Vivi spoke. Her brow furrowed. These things, she’d never thought of. It wasn’t important a long time ago. Mystery whined and tried to grasp the pictures Vivi was now holding, but the girl gently pushed his muzzle away. “Are there any pictures of just us? Art?”

Arthur gave a slight nod, without looking Vivi’s way. A car rolled up behind them and blared its horn. Taking his time, Arthur checked the driver side mirror, look between the intersections, and then accelerated forward. The car hugged his bumper but he didn’t care. He released the cup from his teeth and it plopped into his lap, the cup was empty long ago and its edges chewed through. “Most of our case files happened to be pics of us just being dumb.” He gave Vivi a smile with the edge of his mouth. “Especially the dud cases.” The look Vivi expressed slayed Arthur’s smirk.

“Then where are they?” she nearly demanded. She put her arms around Mystery when the mutt pressed the top of his head into her chin, the edges of his fur were frosty and almost painful to the touch; Vivi felt this through the coat and sweater she wore. “They weren’t destroyed… were they? We wouldn’t—”

“No,” Arthur said, voice low, barely heard over the sound of the cars offensive horn, as the vehicle zoomed by on the outer lane. “I have them stored somewhere safe. When we get back home, I can get them to you. Just remind me. Cool?”

Vivi took in a deep breath and let the air seep from her nose. Her arms remained loosely wrapped around Mystery, and the dog gurgled comforting sounds into her neck. “Yeah. T-thanks. Um… I think you missed a turn back there.”

While Arthur made the long detour to turn around in a dead end neighborhood, Vivi worked to pack the photographs together and put them back into some relative semblance of order. She stuffed the small book case back into her backpack, before raising the picture she had left placed on the dashboard. “This is the house here.” Vivi checks the back of the photo, before handing it to Arthur.

The van huffed off the main road and left behind the energetic traffic of the thoroughfare, their transportation followed the calm swaying roads laid between ditches and patches of fresh grass layered by the previous snow fall. Tall iron fences boarded the edge of the neighborhoods, and the homes that lay beyond. Arthur took the next turn in the road and ventured to the end of a long cul-de-sac, its numerous homes huddled in close at the edge of the black pavement. The van slowed as they approached one home that lined up with the photograph – many of the homes in the area had shared designs, but this one’s color scheme stood out from its fellow cookie cutters. The house had the largest lawn leading to the front porch, and a balcony built above the porches entrance alcove.

“Looks like the place,” Arthur comments. He pulls up beside the curb and cuts the engine, and shuffles forward on the edge of his seat to stare out of the haze infused windshield. The house wasn’t as wide as it was tall; it might be two stories, four if the attic was included. The roof was decorated with hard ceramic shingles with a satellite dish perched like a gargoyle on the roofs corner, and a lightning rod upon the roofs peak to challenge the sky. “Everything looks well maintained.” That was a note Vivi observed, and Arthur remarked on at first arrival; some ghosts did not like drastic changes or renovations to their homes. That is, if this was a genuine haunting.

Vivi tucked the picture back into her backpack, and stared for a moment longer at the looming edifice. “Well, they must be having problems if we were sent,” she presumed. Vivi was already reaching for the door handle. There was no reason to stall, except that she didn’t feel up to interacting with complete strangers, and didn’t know when she would ‘feel ready’ for this scenario. She tries to sound upbeat, as she says, “Let’s go greet the clients then, and see if they’re ready for us.”

Arthur scoffed as he opened the driver side door and slipped out. Mystery followed, plopping onto the road beside him. “They better be,” he grumbled. “We took a surplus of stops along the way.”

“Maybe they think we’re not coming?” Vivi commented. “They didn’t seem too thrilled when I called earlier, or maybe that’s because it was really early?” She flashed Arthur a sheepish smirk from her side of the vans cabin. Arthur rolled his eyes and shut the door.

Before Vivi climbs out of the van, she casts one last glimpse over the bench seat, just enough to assure herself everything is as she left it in the back. “We’ll be back soon,” she murmurs, without raising her eye level any higher. “Take your… see you in a bit.”

Vivi goes around the van, making certain all the doors are locked, though she and Arthur would be within eyeshot and this side of the street was virtually deserted, especially in the cold weather. Arthur says nothing, and opts to turn his attention to Mystery as the hyper pup goes streaking across the snow encrusted lawn. Arthur shivers as Mystery frolics, the dog paws at icy ridges churned up by the previous day’s rough play.

“C’mon, don’t get all dirty in the snow!” Arthur harps. He almost envied Mystery, almost. The cold didn’t seem to bother the dog, at least not at first. It was possible Mystery was fully enjoying the wholesome natural cold, rather than the vans—

Arthur jumped when a hand gripped his shoulder. “Vi! Really?” he panted, gripping the front of his shirt with his flesh hand. His knuckles were nearly as cold as his metal joints.

“Sorry,” Vivi chocked. She tugged Arthur by his good elbow, and walked him along the freshly shoveled sidewalk. “I didn’t think you were spacing.” Her shoes were definitely not for this weather, and she needed Arthur’s balance to keep from falling in a patch of refroze ice.

“I wasn’t,” Arthur muttered. “Mystery! Come on, first impressions are everything!” Arthur looked aside as Vivi snickered into her scarf top.

“He’s been cooped up for a nearly a week and a half,” Vivi said.

“Filth and lies,” Arthur mumbled. If it wasn’t for Mystery, Arthur was certain he would’ve gone mad with cabin fever. “I’m pretty sure he’s rubbing it in my face.”

Vivi tightened her arms around Arthur, mostly to shield his bare arms from the cold. “I’ll dry him off as we get the equipment. We’ll— WEEEEEEE!” She fell. And dragged Arthur’s noodle limbs down with her. Even with Vivi tangled around him, Arthur still managed to hit the sidewalk first and Vivi dropped onto of his chest. “Oh god Art, are your goods compromised?”

“I swear ‘a chair’ is an unadvisable use of my person.” Arthur took a breath, his ribs ached and the cold was burning his back. “Could you get off? Before my arm freezes to the ground.”

It wasn’t a challenge to get up off the sidewalk, not after Vivi was on her feet and hoisted Arthur up with her. Hopefully no one had seen it, but if they had then probably they would have stormed from the house to assist the two idiots. At any rate, Arthur was grateful for that small fortune.

As they neared the porch Vivi realized the home was not as large as was anticipated, maybe six bedrooms and two or three whole baths. Several large and pint sixed windows dotted thr front of the home, and the porch alcove that they were nearing. Over the roof some of the ice had melted and refroze, giving the slabs a white with black outline.

Arthur stamped some of the ice crystalizing to his shoes onto the course mat, he brushed some of the frost from his backside and stuffed his icy hands into his pockets. Vivi gestured the door, but Arthur shook his head. Frowning, Vivi placed her fists to her hips and leaned further from the large iron front of the door. Arthur shrugged and kept his arms plastered to his side.

“I’m sure they have the heater on inside,” Vivi hummed.

Arthur grumbled in his throat, and thrust out a fist to hit the doorbell. When the chime faded there came a lull of quiet. From within a voice hollered, a few voices. Arthur shuffled to stand behind Vivi and hunched over, mostly from the cold.

“Kind of hurry,” he muttered. “Have they checked the thermometer lately?”

“Do you want to borrow a coat?” To Vivi’s question, Arthur shook his head. They turn to the door as it creaks open, rather loudly, and a face peers back at them.

“Yes?” the woman behind the iron door inquires. She looks between the two people on her porch and holds the wood door beside her shoulder, as if there isn’t a large metal door between them.

“Hello Mrs….” Vivi paused, and grinned, and was making a very bad first impression. Crap.

Arthur leaned towards Vivi’s shoulder and whispered, “Hirstein.”

“Mrs. Hirstein.” Vivi widened her grin. The homes occupant stared at the two on her porch suspiciously, and edged the door shut. “We spoke this morning over the phone? We’re the Mystery Skulls, called out to help with your poltergeist problem?”

The woman squint her eyes a bit, and the embarrassment began to set into Arthur that perhaps they had gotten the wrong house. Not only that, they had crash landed in front of the wrong house. “Uh… Vi?”

“Finally,” the woman muttered. She introduced herself as Beatrice Hirstein, Brea for short. Brea opened the steel door and shook hands with Vivi. Arthur held his arm metal behind his back, as he took Beatrice’s hand. “We’ve waited long enough. It might’ve been better if you had gone ahead and canceled, if you were going to have problems with traveling.”

“Right,” Vivi murmured. “Sometimes things just come up. Anyway! Y’know before we come in and start going over the investigation aspects, we have some equipment to bring in.” Vivi gestured back toward the van parked on the street curb.

Brea raised her gaze above Vivi and gave the van a careful look over. “Er, are you staying in a hotel tonight?”

Vivi pulled back from accompanying Arthur, when he turned to head back for the van. Barks echoed across the open yard, bouncing around as Mystery trotted around beyond the edge of the porch. “No?” she said. “We came straight here to check in with you first. For the record, can I just have you tell me who’s all going to be around while we’re investigating?” She glanced off when Mystery renewed his joyful yips.

Brea leaned on the doorframe and held up her fingers on one hand. “Just my husband and our two kids, they’re twelve and thirteen. They know to behave themselves.”

“ _Well, that’s good,_ ” Vivi reflected. The family was screened before the assignment was handed over to her group. “And who’s experienced the most paranormal activity?”

For now Vivi would collect the verbal data of the home, then later she’ll want a notebook to frantically scribble down everything she was offered. Arthur would make sure to find a few clean notebooks, and check the batteries in the camera and whatever else they might need. No candles, hopefully. This was their actual assignment, so the audio recorder and EKGs could go too.

“Hey bud,” Arthur mumbled, when Mystery trotted up beside him. “Stretching your legs?”

As Mystery fell in stride with his companion, he puffed out his chest and shook his mane out. His pelt was coated in fine white dust and it shimmered across his bristled fur under the early noon sun. The temperature would be on the rise soon.

Gray street slush crunched under Arthur’s shoes as he moved off the sidewalk and stood before the back of the van. He palmed the keys in his pockets but made no move yet to open the back door. In a way he wanted Vivi with him, she could help carry supplies and keep him company. Someone he could ramble to about the equipment, the whole time Vivi would comment and she’d ask if he realized he was nervous yet, and Arthur would admit he was. Vivi had been so patient with him these past few days, he wondered if it was because….

Arthur glanced at Mystery beside him. The hound stood fixed to the ground, eyes staring intently at the doors.

There was nothing to stress about. Go in, get the supplies. Vivi would be along shortly, he was sure.

“I’m a fuckin idiot.” Arthur takes a breath and holds it. The key chain clunks hollowly against the metal of the door as he twists the key, the latch clicks. He drags the door open and shivers. Standing outside, his toes numb and his arm aching, it was kind of pleasant. The sun was quickly gliding higher into the sky, the vans shadow and his intermingle on the snow and thicken, darken.

The interior of the van. It has become something else. Something Arthur no longer recognized. It’s steady resonance, faint but persistent and nearly nonexistent. The panicked shrieks of his own strangled voice came back; he didn’t remember much of when he… awoke. Vivi wouldn’t tell him much about it, she had only assured him it had been bad, but he had gotten better once she assured him nothing was wrong. Good news, he didn’t fuckup for once.

He’s indecisive of how to start or speak, he stands there longer than he should on a black crust of ice and transfers his only good hand from the vans door, to his arm, and shivers just a little more. He wanted to ask Vivi, but her disposition said it all. It hurt, to leave words unspoken, but it hurt worse to have thought—

A scrabble of clacking claws on metal jar Arthur out of his pensive state, but he sees its only Mystery clawing his way over the back bumper and into the van. Arthur exhaled a puff of thick mist as he whimpers. The dog hastily spins about draws his ears back along his head.

“S’okay,” Arthur mumbled. He set his flesh hand on Mystery’s mane and rubbed the dog’s neck. “I’m a little tense.” He hesitates to climb up into the back with Mystery, though he knew it was perfectly safe. Probably. The back of the van had long ago lost that sense of security it’d had from the ye olden days, when colors didn’t mingle so much. Since that… time, it wasn’t the first choice for a rest if Arthur could help it. The back and the floor wasn’t necessarily a place he’d equate to pain, it just…. he didn’t like waking up there.

“Uh… hey Lew. Just here to grab some things.” Arthur climbed up into the van, but made sure to give the one side of the wall plenty of space. “Please… don’t like, spring out at me or do anything weird. I’ll leave you to do your thing, so hold tight.”

Rustling came from the furthest corner of the van behind the bench seat, and Mystery was hunched over with a bag of chips in his teeth. The dog pawed at the bag, but otherwise couldn’t do much to get it open without making a mess.

The mood immediately lightened, and Arthur managed a small snigger. “Hold on, I’ll get that.” Mystery released the chip bag when Arthur took it, and the dog watched as his companion took the sides and splint the bag open. “Try not to make a huge mess.” Mystery peered down at the bag that was set before his paws, then, tilted his head to peer up at Arthur. “Aren’t you hungry?” By way of reply, Mystery snatched the edge of the bag between his teeth and raised it to Arthur. “No-no. I’m not hungry. You go ahead.” But Mystery wouldn’t hear that nonsense, and persisted to push the bag of chips against Arthur’s leg.

Arthur sighed. Once Mystery got something on mind, the pooch would not let it go. “Okay, here.” Arthur took the bag and scooped out a handful of chips. He stuffed the salty snack bits into his mouth. “There. I’ve eaten,” he grumbled through a mouthful of chip. “I’ve gotta get to work and collect some— ”

A cold hand gripped his shoulder. Arthur let out a squeal and nearly choked on his food.

“Sorry!” Vivi yelped, cringing back on the floorboard. “Geez, necessary much?”

Arthur managed to choke down his food and took a few short breaths. “Did you have to grab me? A little, ‘Hey you. How you do?’ would suffice. You don’t have to just throttle someone by the shoulder to get their attention.” He shuffled aside as Vivi pushed on by. Arthur began going through their bags, as Vivi began examining the cuvees.

“That hasn’t worked yet.” Like Arthur predicted, Vivi had already acquired a notebook and situated herself against the opposite wall of the van. With the notebook propped on her knee, she began to hurriedly scribble down on the unmarked pages. Halfway through filling out one page with her microscopic writing, Vivi set the pen down and watched Arthur as he plucked out the provision bags. “Hey, Art?” Arthur stopped moving, his head slanted slightly to indicate he was listening. “You didn’t have to do this alone, y’know? You could always wait for me.”

Arthur lowered his head and picked up one of the flashlights that had been left on the floor. “I know. I know. I just trying… keeping busy helps.” He tucked the torch into the side pocket on the bag. “Aren’t I always saying that?”

Vivi nodded. “Yeah, you are. Have I mentioned, lately.” She clicked the top of her pen and set the tip back down onto the paper, but didn’t start writing. “You’ll tell me if I’m asking too much of you?” Mystery paused and pulled his face from the bag of chips, he looked from Vivi to Arthur, when Arthur paused in packing a backpack.

“You know I would,” Arthur murmurs.

Vivi lowered her gaze, and placed her arm around Mystery when he shuffled closer beside her. “I wanna believe you,” she replied. Mystery put his head up under her chin and whined.

Mrs. Beatrice Hirstein had been hospitable and offered a spare room on the ground floor, to the Mystery Skulls during the duration of their examinations. The spare bedroom actually had a nice little set up, for being smack dab in the middle of a haunted home. Otherwise, Arthur would have had no problem unloading a few of his bags on the couch. They had windows facing the side and front yard, and a few folded blankets were already laid out on the bare bed with a crumpled up mattress liner.

“No one said anything about a dog.” That was Mrs. Hirstein’s voice.

Vivi froze in the doorway of the spare room, narrowly missing Arthur’s grimace when she made a precise three-sixty and rushed back down the short hall, to the front door where Mystery was standing. Blocking the dog’s path was Brea, waving her hands at an unimpressed Mystery and making ‘shoo’ noises.

“Outside with you. Dogs are not allowed in the house,” demanded Brea.

“He’s our assistant,” Vivi blurted, once she reached the two. Brea gave her the most offended stare. “He’ll be helping us in our work. If you’re worried about fleas or shedding,” Vivi ignored that look Mystery was giving her, and went on, “He doesn’t do none of that. He’s a… uh, a special breed.” Vivi sidestepped as Mystery padded on by, pinned between the tips of the dog’s teeth was the edge of a packaged honey bun cinnamon roll.

“That’s impossible,” Brea growled. “You! Dog! Here puppy-puppy!” She stepped around Vivi and tried to march after Mystery; Vivi was close behind her. Mystery seemed completely oblivious, or just flat out ignored the woman reaching for his collar. She couldn’t seem to grasp the red band around his neck, and Mystery always seemed to keep three steps ahead of the woman. “Call your dog back.”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Mystery. No. Stop. I mean it.” Vivi didn’t mean to sound so monotone, she was about as fed up as Mystery was at this point. “Do you want a Scooby snack? I swear, that always works.”

Mystery kept going down the hall, went into the spare bedroom, and strolled right up to Arthur, who was seated on the couch placed along one wall of the room. A small tackle box sat on the couch cushion beside Arthur, and he had a small screwdriver which he was using to loosen a screw somewhere in the elbow connector of his prosthetic. When Mystery appeared beneath his peripheral, Arthur jolted and finally took note of the two escorts. Whatever question Arthur was about to ask was bypassed, when Mystery began shoving the packaged cinnamon bun into his knee. Arthur set the screwdriver back in the box, and reached out for the snack treat.

That was when Brea Hirstein acts. She snared Mystery by his collar and yanked the dog backwards. “Your dog cannot be in my house,” she seethed.

A long time ago, somewhere out on the porch, Vivi had deduced this case would be difficult. No fault on the ghosts part Vivi was certain, but due to their clients complete lack of cooperation.

In response to the nagging Mystery dropped the cinnamon bun and went limp, his legs curled up under him but the dog made no sound. He only tucked his front paws under his chest and held himself up, as Mrs. Hirstein began hauling him backwards.

“Now wait a darn minute,” Vivi hissed, snaring the woman by her wrist. “It’ll be— ”

“We don’t work without Mystery!” Arthur snapped. He stood up from the couch holding the prosthetic close to his body. Brea had stopped dragging Mystery, and Vivi kept her hand on the woman’s wrist to prevent her dog from being strangled. “You want to call someone else in our place, that’s fine. But we can’t do this without Mystery. He’s a… y’know, a good friend of mine, and you won’t treat him that way.”

“He can stay,” Brea went on. “But out— ”

“Too cold,” Vivi rebuked. She managed to loosen the woman’s grip on Mystery’s collar, and the dog rolled away. Mystery sprang behind Vivi and peered around Vivi’s skirt as Brea swayed, moving to grab for the dog’s collar again, though Vivi was right in her way.

“He’ll stay in the garage then,” Brea muttered.

“Nope,” Arthur persisted, shaking his head. “Either you let all of us stay together, or we’ll leave together. Y’know, we get a lot of these dud cases, and eighty percent of the time Mystery’s the one that sniffs out the gimmick stuff – like wires, hidden stereos, things like that. You don’t have anything to hide, do you?”

This seemed to have caught Mrs. Hirstein’s attention, to Vivi’s dismay. It didn’t bode well, but maybe it was just her suspicion.

Mrs. Beatrice Hirstein straightened and looked from Arthur to Vivi, and then to the dog hiding behind the blue clad figure. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But he does not go anywhere near the kitchen.”

Arthur was about to make another comment, but Vivi staggered past Brea and slapped a hand over Arthur’s mouth. “Yes, that seems fair,” she chirped, and smiled. “There’ll be plenty of other places in your home that we’ll be able to thoroughly check out.” She released Arthur’s face, and the lanky figure slumped down onto the couch. “But we really do appreciate this. Don’t we, Mystery?”

Mystery took a moment to adjust his glasses with a paw, and tugged his collar out away from his neck. He glanced up at Brea when she glowered down at him. He gave a slight nod, and spun away marching out of the room.

“Where’s he going?” Brea hurried to the doorway and out, the hard soles of her shoes faded down the hall.

Vivi waited until she felt assured Mrs. Hirstein was out of earshot before she spoke. “Is it so much to ask that people actually read our credentials?” Arthur glanced her way, but said nothing. “How’d they even find us? Throwing darts at a list of names?”

“They don’t really specify ‘us.’ No one’s done that….” Arthur let his voice trail off. “I’ve got to check the equipment. Make sure everything’s working before we start.” Vivi turned to him, and Arthur had lowered his head as he really focused on the panel of his arm. “I didn’t really check the case file on our way over?”

Vivi moved over to the tool box on the couch and picked up the cinnamon bun that was dropped inside. “Do you need some extra time to fix your arm?”

Arthur popped the long panel along his arm open. He shook his head, and began prodding the inside of his arm. Vivi wasn’t watching. “I’m just switching out a stick drive, and giving the gears a small tweak. Ten minutes.”

“Getting warmed up?” Vivi sat beside him on the arm of the chair. Tentatively, Arthur nods.

While Arthur did the required maintenance on his arm, Vivi took the liberty to seek out Beatrice Hirstein and spoke with her along the lines of the Mystery Skulls procedure of investigation. For the most part, Brea seemed to be in full agreement and nodded along with whatever Vivi related of their work and credentials. Yawn-yawn, but Vivi poured over how the group functioned, what would be done in the home, and on general tried to minimize the inevitable Q and A.

“So, unless you specifically want us to examine a room, we won’t go in.” Vivi was invited to sit in one of the chairs beside the dining room. This was down the hall from the front door and from her vantage point Vivi could look out one of the windows beside the door, and see where the van was parked beside the curve. It seemed very far away.

“But we ask that you keep doors closed, mostly for your comfort,” Vivi went on.

“And what’s the dog doing?” Brea inquired, as Mystery padded through for what must’ve been the fifteenth time.

Mystery crossed the room to a door, stood on his hide legs and tried the handle with his paws. Vivi could hear Brea’s jaw hit the floor when Mystery managed to open the door and stepped inside, then closed the door behind him.

“He just gives the area a look over,” Vivi answered. “I honestly don’t keep tabs on him, he just kinda does his own thing. He’ll accompany someone during the main portion of investigations.” Vivi returned her eyes to her notebook, and flipped through the ink scratched pages. “If you’re okay with it, we can examine the master first and have that information to look over. Sometimes activity fluctuates when there are new people visiting a home.”

“Of course,” Brea acknowledged. “How soon will you be able to start?”

“We kind of already have.” Vivi pressed the butt of the pen to her lower lip and read through the notes. “We get a feel for your home, its natural state during low activity hours. That’s usually in the day, when the home is awake.” The lack of a response prompted Vivi to glance up. Brea had the ‘skepticism’ expression many cynics wore upon first interview. And they thought her group was a bunch of weirdos. “I don’t mean that literally the home is awake. That would be silly, right?”

“Right,” Brea drawled out, still skeptical. That wouldn’t change any time soon.

By the time the briefing was drawing to its close, Arthur had emerged from the side hall that led to the spare room. The stairs to the second floor were located at the edge of that same hall, and Arthur joined Vivi and Brea as they began to ascend the narrow staircase to the upper floors. As Arthur approached he raised a hand and finger, as if on the verge of a grand proclamation.

“We’re headed to the third floor,” Vivi announced. Arthur brought his foot down soundlessly and pursed his lips into a thin line. “Could you grab the voice recorded and maybe the walkie-talkies?” Arthur didn’t answer, but performed an over theatric about face and walked off. “Do you mind if we leave an audio recorder in your room somewhere? On a dresser?”

“I actually do,” Brea spoke. She held the banister beside her as they moved slowly up the steps. “Anyway, we never hear anything in that room, but some of our personal property has a tendency to go missing, only to appear elsewhere in the home. It’s gotten bad as of late.”

Vivi wasn’t surprised. She wanted to question more of the families personal activities, and begin to make sense of the ‘paranormal activity’ that was supposedly happening in this home. To top it all off the house wasn’t that old, it was built in the late nineties and the most of its history she did find specifically, only mentioned a brief kitchen fire before the Hirstein’s moved in, but no casualties noted during that time.

“How long will it take to fix our home?” Brea inquired, quite suddenly. Vivi had been considering sneaking the audio recorder into the room, when Brea had spoken. The steps ended and Brea stepped out onto a carpeted floor of a corner hall, and turned as Vivi met her on the second floor. “I’ve seen some documentation online, and I have some concerns to voice.”

“Well,” Vivi began. There had to be a way to voice this without sounding corny. She continued to follow Brea, as the client continued to walk along the hall, waiting patiently for a reply. “You can’t really fix something that’s not broke. There’s nothing wrong with your home, it just… has inhabitants you didn’t realize were there.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the similes,” says Brea. “But my family was not made aware of the presence when we made the purchase, and I would like to appreciate my home as it was initially advertised. This constant tomfoolery I cannot stand, it’s stressful having to hunt down our property. You know how it is. And… what if they’re dangerous?”

“That’s why we were called out here,” Vivi said. She narrows her eyes a tad when Brea turns her head to acknowledge Vivi’s words. “We’re not Ghost Busters. I hope you didn’t get that sort of idea when you contacted the university. Mystery Skulls are here only to document, and understand what kind of activity has manifested. And then, if it’s determined to be unfriendly or… I dunno, if it is, we’ll work with you on that.”

They walked to the end of the hall, the wall opened up and there was another set of steps that rose up to the third floor. Brea paused at the staircase base and turned to Vivi, hand outstretched to sit on the banister. “But that’s why we called you,” she insisted. “We fear for our lives every night we sleep in this house.”

“ _Somehow, I doubt this._ ” Vivi pressed her glasses higher up onto the bridge of her nose, and folded her arms with the notebook behind her back. “My group is highly reputable,” she assured. She tried NOT to think of the Cave. “The college can give you a full backing of our work, and I give you the Mystery Skulls word; whatever actions are necessary, we will undertake to insure your families safety. But, as far as I’m concerned you are not our only clients this evening.”

“Are you being serious?”

Vivi gave up. This was going nowhere. “We may yet determine that your visitors are somehow a danger to you and your family,” she said, nearly sighing. “We’ll see what we can do. First though, I need to know what we’re working with. Can we proceed?” Vivi gestured the steps that Brea stood before.

Difficult clients were far more common than she cared for. That was why Vivi preferred finding the cases to explore, more leniency and they could get up and walk out in instances when their potential client became obnoxious about their work system.

Three windows were set into the wall, ascending with the steps, and Vivi could look out and see the front edge of the van. Since starting up with the university and receiving ‘official’ funding, they had been able to travel further away and stay out for longer on trips; or, Arthur, Mystery, and she were able to.

Though now that she considered this patter – it didn’t seem that long ago – she was sure Arthur had made a light comment about the recent work. The newer assignments the college had offered them. What was it? Not that bad, or something. It was a phrase along that line; even he had thought they were doing busy work. That’s what he thought! Busy work. They were not licensed Demonologists, but the university had them investigating the lighter claims. It was for Arthur she had decided, because he had been the one… in the accident. Or…

For her?

“Miss!” Vivi jerked back from the window plane and looked to Brea, five steps between them and Brea beyond the edge of the upper floors flat. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I was yelling at you.”

“I’m fine,” Vivi choked. “I was… I had a thought about the evening.” She shut her eyes and pressed a hand to her cheek. It was ice-cold outside, the edges of the glass pane tinged with snowflake kaleidoscopes patterns. “Everything’s fine.”

 

The steps were kind of steep, but Arthur had a little fun going up them on all fours. Was he just weird, or did people still do that even at his age? Oh well, might as well keep at it until he needed a cane or a hover chair.

He made it to the second story and straightened up, then gave his perimeter a quick look over. He was at the corner in a hall, it opened up ahead of him and led to a single door. Probably the balcony they saw it when walking up the lawn. Vaguely the layout reminded him of his uncles shop, though it was clearly not like it at all. He was just projecting due to a mild case of homesickness. Where were the steps to the third floor? They didn’t continue here.

The wall at his shoulder had a long window in it, inside the house; some kind of art deco. He walked over to inspect the window, if it was truly a window and not some sort of trick mirror. The room inside was spacious, with couches and chairs spaced about in the late noon sunlight, and a teen sat on one of the long lounge chairs, a book at their face. One wall of the room was circular and filled with thin windows, and the opposite wall had a built in bookshelf painted soft crème colors to match the surrounding walls. The bookshelf was filled with books, and a telly set sat on the lower shelf.

“Um…” Arthur leaned toward the open door, and waved his good arm. “Excuse me. Hello?”

The person, a girl, jumped at his voice and brought her knees up to her chest, the book that she held was hugged to her front tightly. “Who are you?” she demanded immediately.

Arthur nearly ran for it, but managed to keep himself stationary by gripping the doors edge. “Sorry!” he yelped. “I wasn’t trying to startle you, really! I was trying to let ya know that I’m here with the Mystery Skulls. Er, you saw your mom and my friend come by here, ja?”

The teen, she peered at him carefully. Suspiciously, as if she were ready to snatch up a phone… or throw her book. She was no longer crushing the book to her chest. “No….”

“I’m sure they came up here,” Arthur muttered. He pinned his metal arm under the backpack on his back and leaned a little more into the doorway. “Well, you were reading so you must’ve missed them.”

“Who else was with you?” she asked.

“My… friend. I’m Arthur, by the way. Your name is?”

“Jezebel,” she answered. Jezebel shuts her book and sets it side, and brushed back her long hair. “Why are you here?”

“The investigations?” Arthur grumbled, shrugging. He paused to put the crook of his arm over his mouth and coughed. “The disturbances and stuff. Hold on.” He hacked and hacked but it just made his throat worse. “I should probably take some medicine.”

“Is that how you died?”

Arthur recoiled about as soon as the last syllable fluttered from her mouth. “W-what?” he stammered, and took another step back. Jezebel scooted forward on the couch a little more and leaned on the flat end of the chair. “What? No-no, I didn’t. I would know!”

Jezebel intertwined her fingers, but held from speaking. She looked Arthur up and down slowly, and said softly, “You’re a spirit, aren’t you?”

Dozens of old spook stories flashed through Arthur’s head. The guy was walking down the street but something was wrong. He didn’t know why he was there, and whenever he tried to ask someone for help they would look at him with horror and flee. That wasn’t Arthur. But Arthur did wonder, what did the man look like? He could imagine Lewis deep in the bottom of a pit searching for his friends. Confused, lost. Abandoned. Did he ever once call home? What would his parents have said? Or would some stranger answer the phone, and inform him they were at their son’s funeral.

Arthur brought his hands up and pressed his palms over his ears. His head was pounding, he was trying to breathe but his throat was raw from a long night of restless tossing. “ _Think carefully, don’t let this get to you_.” There shouldn’t be any sort of debate, he’d know if something had happened. He would KNOW. His last memories, he had breakfast with Vivi that morning. And—

He stopped there and focused his eyes on Jezebel, patiently watching him mild concern on her face. She was there. But… Oh.

“You!” Arthur gagged. “You’re… Yeh!” He pivots and takes off without another word. Just like the people in that story. No word of why, only terror and escape.

“Vi! Viv-vi! VI!” he called. No answer, he was alone. The stairs were at the other end of the hall, far from the room and its mysterious occupant. Arthur vaulted over the rail and charged up the steps three and five at a time. When he reached the third floor he tried to keep racing forward, but some unseen obstruction cut his legs out from under him and he flopped forward. An agonized snarl slipped out of him, before he slapped his good hand over his mouth and buried the sound down. He’d hit his bad shoulder and jarred the connector built over his bone. Like, that was so bad. He rolled onto his side, the backpack flopped off his shoulders as he writhed and twisted.

“Holy shit! Shot! Shoot mushrooms,” Vivi cried. “Art! What happened? Did you try to walk through a wall again?” She raced from an open door across the hall and slipped down next to the cringing figure. “You’ll be okay,” she cooed, and rubbed Arthur’s back. “Just calm down. Breathe. Do you need your meds? How can I help?”

Arthur shook his head. He took his hand from his mouth and gulped in some fresh air. It took a few tries of noiseless gapping, but eventually he could manage human vocalizations. “I think I saw one of ‘em,” he wheezed. “Some girl, sitting in this room just reading. Said her name was Jezebel. Vi— ”

“It’s okay,” Vivi soothed. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “There were no hostile accounts in the reports, remember? Did she rush at you, or something?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing,” he burbled. But he ran away. It hadn’t hit him until now, the ghost was talking to him and he up and ran without a second thought. Just like in that story. How non-threatening could a spook get?

He expected Vivi’s, ‘Why did you run? You shouldn’t do that,’ preaching; the one she used to lightly scold him with when he was the first to take off from an encounter. She doesn’t even bat an eyelash about it. In a way, Arthur kind of missed it.

“Was he hurt?” Mrs. Hirstein called, as she clopped up to the two. “Does he need some ice?”

“No-no. It just stunned me,” Arthur mumbles. He pulls the backpack from his shoulders and gets the flap open. “I also snagged your camera.” He let his prosthetic rest across his bent legs as he pulled out the digital camera.

“Are you ready to stand? Hold on to those?” Vivi wrapped an arm around Arthur’s backside, and took the bag beside him. Her free hand gripped his good arm, and she carefully heaved Arthur up onto his feet. She held the shaking figure until he remained balanced on his own. “Ready to do this?”

Arthur flashed Brea a quick look, and suppressed a sigh of exasperation. “Yeah, Vi. I just knocked myself down.” Looking back he saw that there was a railing at the end of the stairs, which had not been there prior he was certain. At least, he hadn’t seen it in his panic. The only way to step onto the stairs was from the side. Brea hadn’t looked away from his arm yet. “I’ll walk it off, and I’ll never know.”

That ended the concern for his wellbeing for the while. Vivi decided to keep better track of Arthur, though she couldn’t press to be more open any more than she had in the past; it would take time, Vivi assured herself. Too often Arthur tried too hard to hide what was hurting him, she was fully aware of this now and sadly, had come to anticipate it at his worst times.

“Before we continue,” Vivi said, as she took her arm from around Arthur. He offered the camera, which Vivi accepted and mouthed a ‘thank you’. “Let’s examine the area where you saw this specter?” she says. “She could be hanging around still. Can you do that?”

Arthur nodded. A bit tentative, he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He attributed it to embarrassment. He led the way back down the steps, with Vivi and Brea in company. “It was in this room with a bunch of windows. Cool layout,” Arthur mumbled. “Like I said, just reading. She hardly noticed me until I said hey.”

“You might’ve broken the pattern,” Vivi commented. They descended to the second floor and cross the hall, to the indicated room.

“This is the study,” Brea stated. She followed Vivi as the blue figure marched right into the room and gave the walls a brief check. “My husband’s idea. It’s his man cave or something.” Brea watched as Vivi began to snap pictures off, in random directions.

The walls were a darker tone of mahogany and had a few family photos, the son and daughter Tyler and Savannah when they were toddlers. Savannah had short mauve hair, like her father Arthur presumed.

After entering and giving the room his own examination, without the panic, Arthur murmured, “It’s all changed.”

Vivi looked around more carefully now, aware this was not the layout Arthur had first seen. There was a dark wood desk to one side of the room, with a silver lamp on the desks corner. The floor was dominated by a miniature golf set up, with the putter leaning on the desks side. The bookshelf on the wall was filled with paper documents all in pristine order, and on the lowest shelf was one of the new age record players.

“Why would the room be different?” Brea asked. She was edging back out of the room, as if she expected it to detach from the rest of the home and jettison off into outer space.

Vivi flipped her notebook open and elected a clean page to scribble on. “The room may have not changed?” she mentioned, while writing. It was tricky to do while holding the camera in one hand. “Personally, I think sometimes spirits project their memories onto others without meaning to. It’s actually more common than you think.”

Arthur sniggered and coughed. “I hit that rail going up the stairs,” he muttered.

“Is that what happened?” Vivi said, smirking. She looked Arthur’s way as she chewed on the tip of her pen. “But still, the rail didn’t go anywhere, you just couldn’t see it.” Arthur was still coughing into the crook of his arm, and had turned away from Vivi and Brea. “You gonna hang in there?”

The dry rattle soothed out, and Arthur nodded his body forward. “Yeah. I’ll get some Dayquil in a bit here.”

When the study shed no more insight onto the poltergeist, and Vivi’s pictures turned up nothing noteworthy, Mrs. Hirstein returned to the third floor leading Vivi and Arthur. Through the hall leading to the master bedroom Brea opened one door, then turned the next corner and opened another door on the furthest wall. The third floors wide hall was decorated with artistic reprints, and beside the wall near the second door that Brea opened was a wicker bench.

“Most of the activity is experienced on this floor,” Brea explained. “My husband’s heard voices from these two rooms, and the bathroom over there.” She indicated a door across from the room she opened. “We’ll hear running water early in the morning. Ridiculously early.”

“From your account, I thought probably this would be a case of a residual haunt,” Vivi explained. She departed from Brea and Arthur and went to the bathroom door. “Those are kind of tricky. I guess it could still be residual.” The door whispered open, and Vivi peered into the sun slicked interior of the bathroom; it too had a few small windows. “I read some geology reports about this area. The soils fertile, and there’s a lot of limestone in this region.”

When their client turned to Arthur with that sort of perplexed look, Arthur gestured with his hand. “Limestone is known to sort of store paranormal activity, or just residual energy in general. There’s not a lot of reports on it,” he said, voice creaking off into coughs. He slung the backpack strap over his shoulder and crossed the hall to Vivi. “She talked to me… er, Jezebel,” he added.

A contemplative hum emitted from Vivi as she played with the door, swinging it in on its hinges. “I wanna say both, for now, “,” Vivi settled. “Until we know about the home, and since the activity doesn’t seem intelligent? It’s more natural.” Arthur was about to argue, when Brea broke in.

“Whatever sort of haunt, I don’t gather what you two are talking about.” Brea stepped closer, reducing the distance between them. She smoothed out some the wrinkles in her coats front, then, crossed her arms behind her back. “You’ll have an easier time fixing one over the other. Is that what you’re saying?”

Vivi pulled the corners of her lips down and grimaced. She shut the bathroom door and turned to Brea. “Like I said it really doesn’t work with the mindset, that something is broken. Paranormal activity isn’t broken, it’s just…”

“A different state of energy fluctuation,” Arthur inserted. The room was warm but he still felt chilled, and looped his arms under his vest sides. “Different haunts react in different ways to us, the same as we react to them… I guess.”

“Right,” Vivi agreed. Brea moved her steadily annoyed glare from Arthur back to Vivi. “And… in the case of a residual, there’s no way to fix that sort of haunt. Even if you were to tear down your home,” Vivi motioned the walls around them. “It just kind of keeps going on. It’s saturated into… whatever, no one can figure out how that thing works. We have personal theories, but people don’t actually understands why it’s caused, that’s why we do so much research.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Hirstein. It was the same monotone as before. She looked angry, but her anger had no factual direction and just floated about her eyes in a blurry haze. “I suppose you’ll do what is necessary then.”

It was despairing, but for the time Mrs. Hirstein had relented in the tireless ‘fix my broken house’ as if investigators were a business filed in the yellow pages, that could be summoned to replace a faulty pipe or reinstall a furnace.

The home was evaluated without further incident. After the master bedroom was ‘looked’ over, Mrs. Beatrice Hirstein led the Mystery Skulls to the areas of the home where activity had been most noted. The haunt was classic – objects relocated on their own, voices and sometimes clacking footsteps on floors where carpet was laid, and doors or windows would open and close on their own. It was Brea and her husband Adrian, and their son and daughter; an average family. Their house itself was tall but it was filled with many rooms and fixed with low ceilings, its individual built practically sized for the base square footage of the homes total foundation. It wasn’t difficult to splint up the audio recorders among the main rooms where the highest activity was noted, that being between the third and second floor. Occasionally, as Vivi and Arthur examined the structure of the rooms and used the EKG reader to pick out readings on electrical plugs, Vivi would flash her camera off and check the image.

During the homes examination, Mystery had all but made himself scarce. Neither Vivi nor Arthur ever saw the illusive hound at the same time as he drifted around the rooms, but that was a good sign if any. Mrs. Hirstein seemed to have forgotten about Mystery completely, or the hound was just excellent at being seen only by whoever he wished to be seen by. Mystery did typical dog things, sleeping on a spare couch, lying in a warm sun beam, but usually Arthur would catch him examining a shut door or just trotting around the halls as if he were late to some meeting.

The second floor had an entertainment room right across from the stairs to the upper floor. The family decorated the room with small, movable couches and a large television, the back wall of the room was dominated by a library of DVDs. The EKGs bulbs flashed across its top as Arthur drew back from the plugs behind the television desk.

“I’m getting some mild readings,” he said. “But it’s not quite faulty wiring. Also, they only have a few plugs.” He froze when the lights in the room went out. Windows along one wall would normally allow plenty of light into the room, if the thick curtains were not drawn.

“That’s something to consider,” Vivi answered. She snapped off a few flash pictures around the dim room, one for each corner, before she flipped the lights back on. “They think stuff goes on when no one’s up in here. Usually thumping and bumping, heard from the garage below. We can check that out tonight, once everything’s quiet.”

The heater was on full blast, and in the room with the low roof the sultry temperature was welcomed. It helped a little, but Arthur swore his body was just emanating waves of icy mist. He shivered as he knelt down beside the wall, where one of the filters was placed in the carpet. The EKG reader responded in no way to the vent. That would have been rare, and in the case of no paranormal activity would indicate fraudulent claims. “Walls are quiet,” Arthur murmured. “Nothing suspicious here. Vi?” Vivi stood beside the doorframe and was gazing up at the low hanging light of the room. Arthur called her name a few more times, before Vivi snapped out of her trace. “You with me?”

Vivi nods. “I was just wondering.” She stops, hesitates. “Art, could you— ” The sound of voices cut her off. They weren’t loud, but she shut her mouth and listened as they came near.

From the doorway beside Vivi enters a girl with short dark mauve hair, and a shorter boy with saffron hair which must have matched his mothers. “Oh, hey,” the boy greets first. The girl walks right by him and heads toward the television.

“Hi,” Vivi barked. “You’re Tyler and Savannah?”

“Yeah,” called the girl. Savannah turns on the television but does lower the volume. On the bright screen wild flashes of movement dominate the program, of a silent battle from the new Power Rangers series. “Our mom said your crew might be up here.” Then, she glanced around from Arthur near the telly, to Vivi at the door. “Where’s the rest of your guys?”

Vivi was about to answer, but Arthur rounded the front of Savanah and began speaking quickly. “It’s just us. Two people and a dog, no one else— I mean, who else would be with us? How many people does it take to investigate a haunted house? We— ” At this point Vivi sprint forward and grabbed Arthur by the back of his backpack and yanked him back. “Right! Did you expect anyone else?” his voice reached a higher pitch, and cracked. Arthur turned his face into his shoulder and began a powerful round of coughing.

Sometime during Arthur’s spiel, Tyler had ducked out of the room but soon returns wearing an expression of confusion. “I thought you’d have a film crew, or at least a camera operator,” he said. A little chime came from him, and Tyler reached into his jeans pocket and produced his phone.

“Sorry,” answered Vivi. “We’re investigators, not a reality show. We don’t mass market our findings, because we in fact believe in our work.”

“But I thought this was like a real job or something?” Tyler prompted. He was fully engrossed with whatever was on his phone, and began tapping across the touch screen. He missed Vivi tighten her fingers around the notebook and camera, and was completely oblivious as Vivi begin in his direction.

Arthur moved around to intercept her, and shouted out a garbled phrase, the suddenness startled Tyler. “We had some questions for you both! Would you be down with that?”

Tyler shrugged his shoulders, and returned to his phone. “Sis?”

“I’m not actually in to this ghost hunting gig,” Savanah mutters. She moves some of the small couches around, and pulls one of the denim covered furniture closer to the television. “Mom’s the one that usually sees and hears things. I think she’s just hormonal.”

“Same,” Tyler says. “Sometimes I think I hear voices, but the TVs usually on, or someone’s radio. I never have the… what d’you call them?” He looked up at Arthur.

“Experiences?” Arthur edged, eyes squinting. Vivi was frowning holes into the back of his head.

“Yeah,” Tyler mumbles, but fails to elaborate on the topic. His phone chirped its tune, and he was back to swiping his finger along the screen. Tyler takes his time reading whatever is there, Vivi half expected him to show them an image or something eventually, but that never happens. “This house gets pretty boring.”

“Okay,” Vivi grumbled. “I have a question. Did your mom at any point recently upset either of you?” She pointed the side of the camera to Tyler then Savanah, now seated on her couch and interested in the television program.

“No,” Tyler said. “Why do you ask?”

“Don’t go into my room,” Savanah piped up. “You’re not going into anyone’s room without permission, are you?”

“No,” Vivi sighed. She brought her wrist up and rubbed at her eyelids. “Unless you leave your door open.” She began stumbling after Arthur as he tugged her towards the open doorwayclose, but somehow so far from them. “If you remember anything, let us know. We’ll… hope to… it was… enjoy your show.”

They avoided the topic of the teens, and settled to resume investigation of the home before the family began to wind down. The sun was already fading among the tree tops of the distant horizon, the days were getting longer but the small portions of time that were added on hardly made the difference yet, or could be credited at all during the busier days.

To Vivi the past few days had taken forever to move on by, despite the fast setting dusks. She and Arthur went through the motions of examining the available rooms, checking out the usual spots most commonly mistaken for paranormal activity. Whenever Vivi had a spare moment between checking faucets and conversing with Arthur, she would try and check out the windows that faced the front lawn. The house had so many windows, it was an odd wonder none of the family had managed to spy something staring through the window panes during the late hours of the night.

“He’ll rise whenever he’s ready,” Arthur murmured, as he reentered the bathroom. They wandered back and forth between third and second floor, sometimes separating to test the movement of sound through the two floors. Currently, a small trickle of water was leaking from the bathtubs faucet. Arthur moved quietly behind Vivi, while she stood peering out of one of the small port windows of the bathroom. The shower faucet shut off completely with no problem, and hardly leaked once the water was cut. “Faucets are kinda hard to debunk,” he began. “Older homes you’ll have problems with water lines leaking, and sometimes the same problems happen in newer homes. It just depends on the pressure beneath the lines….” He turned to face Vivi. “Hey, Vi?”

“The pipes are in good order. But we get that a lot, don’t we?” she said. Vivi maneuvered around to face the row of cabinets beneath the triple sinks, and opened one of the cupboards. “You said bubbles sometimes form in the pipes of these larger homes?”

“Yeah,” Arthur drawled out. He’d go with it, until he and Vivi had some time together for private talk. “Depends on the barometric pressure of the water, as the temperature of the outer walls shift during night and daytime hours. The walls are insulated, but—” Before he could get going on the endless house ramble, Savanah came wandering in and stopped at the doorway.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Can I get in here for a bit?” Savanah leaned back onto the open door, and the wood bumped into the plaster wall.

Arthur barely spun Vivi’s way to ask her confirmation, right as Vivi whooshed on by. Arthur followed, stumbling, another series of convulsions working from his lungs. “Take your time, we’re done in here anyway,” Vivi states, as they exit the room. She flipped a page in the notebook with her thumb as she took the side of the hall, Arthur was close behind her. “Let’s check the other rooms on this floor, before we head downstairs.”

Briefly Arthur was confused, since they had just checked those rooms and Vivi was walking towards the stairs that led to the second floor. Then, he caught on and didn’t say a word.

There were endless debates in the past about their worst clients. Arthur didn’t have much to add on that subject, he mostly just listened to Vivi rave about these people and their ‘infuriating’ attitude towards the paranormal profession. For the most part, the client’s the university had elected as of late for their cases were usually tolerable human beings; but there was always an exception at some point. It was inevitable. In the past when the Mystery Skulls was an independent group, Vivi had up and left some fool clients when the situation had reached intolerable levels. That hadn’t happened in… how long? Arthur was disappointed to realize he couldn’t remember.

The Hirstein’s weren’t terrible people, but trying to get any support from them on their poltergeist problem was like trying to drag a large bucket upstream in four feet of white capped rapids.

“Don’t you have any fancy equipment?” Tyler found them in the study room. He was still on his phone, chatting or something with someone.

Vivi walked around the open space where Arthur had claimed to have seen the spirit Jezebel, completely oblivious to the presence of others until she was spoken too directly. Vivi considered the audio recorder she was holding. Currently, Arthur was on the other side of the window that was in the offices wall, tapping around below the frame. She could hear his knocks through the thin plaster wall, but the interesting thing was how the sound traveled through the walls around the room itself. It could easily be mistaken for paranormal happenings, if someone was trying to mess around with someone else.

“Most ghost hunters don’t need fancy equipment,” Vivi offers. Arthur made some movements with his hands. Vivi sighed, and waved back at him. Arthur shrugs. “You can ghost hunt on a budget of about fifty, depends on what you’re looking for.” Vivi turns to the space of the wall behind her and snaps a picture. She checks the camera and frowns. Delete. Nothing interesting at all in any of the dark corners or windows, she was debating on giving up on the camera this go around. Save the batteries as Arthur was always saying.

The silence hit her at once, and Vivi looked the room over wondering where Tyler had relocated himself. She caught visual of Arthur framed along the edge of the window, dragging his shirt sleeve down as much as he could over his prosthetics elbow and twisting his body over until he was nearly out of sight beneath the glass. It took a few seconds for Vivi to comprehend what had happened.

Tyler was already swiping through his phone screen, when Vivi stormed through the doorway of the study and snatched the phone away. “Hey! That’s not yours!” he snarled. Vivi was not much taller than the youth, but she could stand on her tiptoes and keep the phone beyond Tyler’s reach.

“You took a picture of him,” she accused, not screaming but voice on the verge of a fiery explosion.

Tyler looked offended. “I did not,” he shot back. “You give me back my phone!”

Arthur said nothing, but he kept himself curled over and hiding his arm beside him.

“I will speak to your mother about this,” Vivi hisses, “and either your phone will be destroyed or wiped completely.”

The teens eyes grew three times their size that day, and he bared his teeth. “My mom won’t let you,” Tyler screamed. “And if you break my phone, my mom will sue you and everyone you know.”

Arthur got between the two, and reached up for the phone in Vivi’s hand. He reached it easier than Tyler, but Vivi had not released it to him. “Lemme see it.” He tugged it from Vivi’s hands once she relented her hold.

“But Arthur—” Arthur held up his metal hand, while his flesh fingers manipulated the screen. “Latest phone, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” Tyler stuttered. “But if you—”

“I can’t break everyone’s phones.” Arthur paused and studied whatever he found on the screen. “Oh, you have a lot of pictures.” Tyler didn’t comment, he settled for glaring and did well with that. Arthur ignored him and continued, tapping his thumb here and there, double tapped. When he had finished, he handed the phone back over. “Nice angle. Your photography skills could use some practice.”

Tyler used both of his thumbs to touch over the screen, then frowned. “Did you delete them?” He didn’t look up, even when Arthur shook his head.

“Just hid them. If you look, you might find them.” Arthur fixed his rumpled sleeve and smoothed out his stretched collar. “We’re kind of busy, unless you wanna help.”

Tyler gave Arthur one last look of irritation, before he slowly pivots and wandered off back to the entertainment room.

Vivi waited until the door slammed shut, then turned to Arthur. “Hid them? Really?”

Arthur shrugged. “People are always taking pictures,” he murmured. “Most times, I don’t notice. I’m not the phone police.” He walked away, back to the doorway of the study room.

“I can talk to their mom,” Vivi mentioned, as she followed. She noticed the audio recorder still in her hand. “I have evidence of what happened, if he gives us any trouble. He shouldn’t—”

“Vi.” Arthur stopped at the doorway. He tugged at the wrist band on his metal arm, and turned his gaze back to her. “That… it’s not helping. It never does. Please.”

Vivi lowered her hands to her sides. She’d never noticed. Maybe because she never thought about Arthur like that, or his arm. But why? Her strongest memories of Arthur were the most recent, weren’t they? She could only remember when he was whole, when he was with a prosthetic. That wasn’t **his** arm. It was the arm he had replaced. A false arm, and false memories.

“Arthur,” Vivi stammered. It was coping. It was a lie. But that wasn’t the whole story. None of them knew the whole story. The Cave, the dark, the green tinged swirls coiling amongst an endless sea of gnarled teeth. “Let’s call it a night.”

“Huh?” Arthur followed Vivi’s movement as she dashed by, nearly pushed him aside into the study room as she hurried toward the descending steps. “What about spook hours? We’re supposed to do that.”

“We’ll take a break then, and go back at it when everyone’s asleep. It’ll be better for us.” Vivi didn’t look back, she kept walking with only the presumption Arthur would catch up. “I need some time to research the house, find out if someone named Jezebel once lived here.”

More than anything she wanted to complete their research and leave. Unfortunately, they had not begun the bulk of the investigations, and the Hirstein’s wouldn’t be helping them at all with their work. Vivi feared the core of the problems stemmed from the fact that the poltergeist haunting the home were not in any way dangerous to the current living family, but whatever or whoever had remained would not be tolerated by the Hirstein’s, even if Vivi could convince the family otherwise.

The ghost was not the problem. It was the family that lived here that was causing the problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Arthur's not careful, Vivi will wind up tearing his arm off and whacking the Hirstein kids with it.
> 
> Pay attention to Mystery. He knows stuff.


	28. Chapter 28

**The Memory**

 

The spirit didn’t know she had already passed and that usually meant complications in the future work, especially if the ghost stubbornly refused to believe that their living existence had ended. Some spirits were fully receptive to counselling once they accepted the truth, while others were flat out impossible to deal with.

Normally the newer homes didn’t carry a prehistory, and what city bothered to keep track of an empty slab of land? Even if at one time a terrible event had taken place in this particular area, the town wouldn’t have been keen on documenting it out respect and for sensitivity reasons. The spirit that Arthur had witnessed, Jezebel, had been preoccupied with a different layout of one of the homes rooms. For now, it was safe to conclude she must’ve died in the house and hadn’t been aware of her passing. That negative history was scarce from the online sources regarding the new neighborhood, though there was no doubt a courthouse would hold those records.

Vivi didn’t want to plan another sneak tactic into an Archive’s again. If Lewis had the idea on his own, she’d hide his skull or something until they came up with a better plan. They had other methods for learning about the poltergeist, though it would take that much longer to draw her out. It was a hard choice to make.

Two in the morning rolled around and neither Vivi, nor Arthur or Mystery had come across any new paranormal evidence to indicate the ghost’s presence. Arthur and Mystery had patrolled together on the third floor, where the family experienced the majority of their activity; Vivi further investigated the second floor, where Arthur had encountered Jezebel. Through some walkie-talkie abuse they kept track of where and what activity was going on, but even with Mystery darting back and forth in the hall above, the house was virtually silent. None of the Hirstein’s had stirred from their rooms once they turned in for the evening.

The couch that furnished the bottom floors room was more than enough furnishing, for a guest room shared by three people. Two of the provision bags and one personal bag occupied the one side of the sofa, while Vivi leaned on the furthest arm of the chair as she finished rescanning the dud photos taken throughout the course of the evening. If the image captured had the potential to hide secrets she usually held onto it, until she could take a turn with the computer. She doubted any of the photos would reveal anything, but she kept the majority of them just in case.

As she often did, she cycled too far through and found one of the ‘earliest’ pictures she’d taken with the camera. It was one of her usual pictures, and she couldn’t remember where they were exactly. The camera was turned down onto a set of gray stone stairs coated in leaves, beyond the elevated steps was a broken timber weave that blocked the open space beneath a house, what resembled three glittering eyes were caught mid flash. She tried to judge what time of year the images setting was but couldn’t, so she resumed through the photography slot. There was an incalculable amount of dark or shattered windows; numerous spooky trails snapped mid twilight; shadows lingering on bridges; among them the most she saw of the team was a flash of spiked hair or an elbow, as Arthur raced off scene from some unknown pursuer. Had she ever once taken pictures of them all together?

Vivi shut the camera off, and leaned over Mystery on the cushion next to her in order to tuck the device into one of her provision bag within reach. She raised her hands to her temples and massaged her scalp just beneath her bangs, with a sigh she leaned back onto the soft cushion of the couch. It smelled used, probably bought off an estate sale or something. The sofa was nostalgic and reminded Vivi of Arthur’s work room, where the mechanic tinkered away the bulk of his downtime either busying himself with a project, or in the rare state of total crash. Rare indeed.

“You gonna check out the audio files before you turn in?” Vivi quipped. Curled up on the seat beside her lay Mystery, pretending to sleep she supposed. Vivi set a hand on his head and smoothed back his pliant dog ears. “There’s a couple hours to go through.”

Arthur had the laptop with him on the freshly made up bed, and he had the little USB cord connected between one audio recorder and the computer set before his knees. “I might go through a few minutes worth, just for curiosity sake.” He pulled one of the blankets from the van, his canary yellow, around his shoulders a little more. The lump in the blankets side revealed that he hadn’t removed his arm yet, but he did have a habit of first taking copies from the external equipment in case of ‘accidents’ while they were asleep (Arthur wouldn’t call what he did sleeping). “I can note some background interference.”

The bed was situated beneath one of the steel vents of the room and the air that spilled from the yawning tunnel was pleasantly warm, however, Arthur was still plagued by the chills. He had organized the bed for Vivi while she went around the house replacing some of the audio recorders, since he was certain Vivi wouldn’t get around to doing it on her own. Vivi’s strategy for bed making was creative to say the least, and usually involved a Vivirrito. Arthur’s personal technique involved getting ever little line out of the corners and surface of the mattress, until someone caught him in the act.

“I’m asking because we might need to write up recommendations with our report,” Vivi continued. “The small scale activity doesn’t sit well with me.” And Arthur crashing onto the third floor screaming about the ghost hadn’t helped, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered in the end. The Hirstein’s were a people that didn’t like to argue about whether they were right or wrong, especially when they knew they were right. She gnawed on her lower lip and debated on their limited options.

The audio file completed its download, and Arthur ejected the device before removing the cord. “Something on your mind?” he asked, as he tugged his backpack over. He opened the bag and began poking through its interior; bundles of sage accounted for, and he could consider burning; newly rolled rice paper. The Dayquil was still near top of his supplies, but its only benefit was it would not make him drowsy.

“I wanna get my thoughts in order first,” Vivi answered. Mystery’s toes twitch on his back leg. He was probably asleep now. “I need to go through the notebooks, try and have some kind of idea of how to handle the haunting. One of the books could have a chapter I haven’t studied yet.”

Arthur had plucked up another audio device when Vivi mentioned books, which were usually kept in the van. “Vi,” he began, and he attempted to clear some of the scratchiness in his throat. “I know what you’re planning. Well.” He glanced aside, then to his arm hidden by the blanket. “You didn’t think I would notice.”

“What’re you….”

“It’s too cold for you to be outside,” Arthur mutters. “This room is about the weirdly nicest thing the Hershey’s have done, since we’re doin’ the whole ghost documentary thing. We might as well try and enjoy it? Huh?” A small cluster of coughs dug at his throat, but the medicine earlier had alleviated the worst of his symptoms.

Vivi shakes her head. “I don’t mind the cold,” she assured. Mystery tilted his head onto its side and opened one eye at her. “A few minutes at most, that’s all. But, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep for long worrying about him.”

“Lew can take care of himself.” Arthur was on the edge of the bed ready to stand, but instead lowers his gaze back to his arm. Briefly, Mystery takes an interest in the exchange, and raises his head from the warm cushion to focus on Arthur. “Yeah. It might be best to give him some space, let him do his thing. Yeah.” Vivi didn’t know, she hadn’t been there. Arthur needed more time to think, rationalize it out and understand what should be said. That familiar chill twisted into his spine. He was still keeping secrets from her, but he wasn’t the only guilty party.

“Vi,” Arthur said. He winced at the gentle touch that set itself on his shoulder, and Vivi mirrored his brief spasm of shock.

“If you’re still worried about the spirit,” Vivi said, as she drew her hand away, “I can stay here.”

Arthur lowered his gaze and focused on the hazy windows in the corner of the room. “I’m not worried about the ghost,” he muttered. Half lie, of course he was fretful, but he could manage to fight the small flutter of dread snuggled behind his chest. It ached but it would always ache that way, and he was becoming accustomed to it. “I’m worried about you.” He lowered his face into the side of his blanket, and worked to clear his throat. Under the covers edge his thumb ran across the Dayquil package. “So does Lew, and… if he finds out I let you keep him company in an icy tin can….” Vivi sat down next to him.

“I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about Lewis,” Vivi groused. “Besides, I’m the one responsible for the both of you.” As the statement left her lips her eyes rose to the windows, probably the one that faced the front yard, though from their angle neither could see the stretch of road where the street curb was.

Responsible for them. It made her wonder.

“Did we ever investigate some farmland, rumored to be haunted by a spooky astronaut?” Vivi described, one eye squinting as she struggled to pool together vague details that sounded ‘right’. “And the ghost left residual glowy hand and footprints? That seems really familiar.”

Arthur glanced over to Mystery’s way, where the dog lay on the couch with his head turned to face Arthur. Mystery shrugged, and lay his head back down. “No,” Arthur drawled out, exaggerating the O. “That sounds kind of cartoony.”

“Really? Wait, you’re not lying are you?” Vivi offered a playful smirk. She didn’t doubt Arthur, nor could she blame him.

“No, not about that,” Arthur insisted, while tugging the blanket around his shoulders. He hated the inability to collect warmth, and half expected to start seeing his breath at any moment. “You were trying to think up an old case we did?”

 

Vivi nodded. “I wanted to try and get him to open up a bit.” She laughed a bit but it lacked humor, the sound of it was hollow and listless. “I wanted to ‘know’ him better, find out some of what I missed.”

This topic, Arthur realized. If Lewis had stayed vanished after their initial… ‘reunion,’ Arthur might’ve been forthcoming to Vivi about what she needed to know. He had promised her, but that was back when it was Arthur’s initial goal to survive the mansion and get Vivi far away from there. That’s not how it went though, and it was still too soon for her to approach him with these questions. Arthur could relay what he knew, but it wouldn’t resolve his faults.

“We were close,” Vivi murmurs. “You said that.”

Arthur pulled his legs back up onto the bed, but winding his knees up beneath the blanket was difficult with Vivi seated on the covers edge. He gave up. “That’s what I… I said that,” Arthur mumbled. “Something like that.” They were totally into each other, and anyone with eyes could see it. That was around the time of the shift, Arthur couldn’t recall where it had begun but as they went on with their cases and mystery work,he would come to realize the effects. He wasn’t upset, how could anyone be upset when their two best friends were so happy? No, that wasn’t it, he would’ve known, really. Yet… Arthur couldn’t delude himself. Sometimes it was hard to keep up, but they hadn’t noticed. They worked off each other like the compatible ingredients of a recipe, and things just seemed to work between them without a hitch. Where did this place Arthur?

“You… shouldn’t ask me anymore about that,” Arthur says. He tightens his fingers on the medicine box and bends it. “I wasn’t really… shit.” He pressed his face into the fold of the blanket, away from Vivi and coughed. “I shouldn’t have started that.”

“Wait?” Vivi stammered. “Why? I’m not asking you to give out history. I can understand, but I wouldn’t pry like that.”

Arthur dithers, and focuses on poking inward one of the thin sides of the medicine box. “I haven’t… done right telling you stuff,” he burbles. Mystery was eyeing him and Vivi back and forth, but Arthur couldn’t keep track of the dog’s line of sight. Arthur nullified some of the convulsive hacks, and curled up a little more under his blanket tent. “Don’t push it, Viv-vi. I don’t know how he’d feel about it.”

“Arth—”

“I won’t!” Arthur gets cagey and refuses to look into Vivi’s face. If she had been there she wouldn’t have settled on digging at him for personal inquiries. Arthur was only thankful that this time, it hadn’t been him. “That’s his business. He’ll share with you when he’s ready.” Arthur moaned a little in his throat and bundled his head up in the blanket edges at his fists. “I can’t do that.”

One time. ONE time, and he’d never forget. It was terrifying getting lost in those woods, and somehow beyond rhyme or reason he’d managed to find Lewis; broken, ashy Lewis. Briefly Arthur had reviewed the countless times the group had worked on a crunch – he, Vivi, Mystery, and Lewis – scribbling on the floor or some wall, incense burning; sometimes Vivi chanting gibberish he couldn’t decipher. They’d get bumped and bruised, cut sometimes, but the situation for the most part was under control. Eventually, the negative energies would subside and the hostile would slip away, evicted from the living plain of existence. That’s how Vivi explained it, she knew about that stuff and Arthur trusted her.

But never had he seen Lewis so aggressive, so… ravenous. That display of uncontested rage, it was unlike anything Arthur could recall witnessing in all their paranormal exploration – and the ear splitting screech that accompanied the crackle of splint charcoal, a wrecked shelter of dense timber and its occupant wailing. That onslaught had somehow saved them but Arthur could recall one other time he had glimpsed a slither of that same fury, and that was when it had been directed at his backside.

“You can figure why I’m asking you like this?” Vivi added. Arthur had yet to raise his gaze to her or comment, or acknowledge that Vivi had spoken at all. She wanted to let it go, but her irritation and stubbornness was winning over. The entire possession had been hard on Arthur, and his inability to recover from the incident had not been lost to her. “You can tell me if he told you not to.”

Arthur scoffed. “O-of course not! But….” There remained other reasons, he only need be straight with Vivi. It wouldn’t be a lie if he misdirected her attention. Arthur grinned, and this time lowered the covers edges from his face. “There might be some embarrassing things he doesn’t want you to know about. You still haven’t let that other thing go, and he hasn’t let me know the end of it.” Vivi matched his smirk, and giggled too. That was better. “You can’t really blame the big imposing spook. He’s got a reputation to keep, after all.”

Vivi reached around Arthur’s backside and patted his good shoulder shrouded by the blanket. “One of these days I’ll let him off the hook, but not too soon. He has a lot to make up for.” She stood and crossed over to the sofa, where one of her provision bags had been left. Unmoving, Mystery watched her with his eyes, his tail giving a slight wag. Arthur was on the verge of asking, when Vivi turned to him. “I still want to look through some books,” she explained. “We need to have something to present to the Hershey’s in the morning.”

Arthur let out a wheezy breath, and managed to evade another coughing fit. “I’ll be up for a while too, anyway. I swear Mystery and I will hunt you down if you don’t turn up.” On the sofa beside Vivi, Mystery made a lethargic ‘oof’ of agreement. “When you want back in, just knock on the window.” Arthur glanced at the frosty glass panes in the far corner of the room, and with a raspy whimper, adds, “Juz… try not to freak me out.”

“I’ll send you smoke signal.” Vivi slips one of the backpacks on over her shoulders, then paused and pointed to Arthur’s bag, beside him on the bed. “Or you can try turning your walkie-talkie on, for once.” Arthur fumbled around to pull the communicator out. “Don’t do anything I would.”

“You know I don’t,” Arthur called at her back. He found his communicator and flipped the switch, then set it on the bed sheets beside his blanket. He waited and watched as Vivi stepped out of the room, before he raised the edge of his cover to rub at his eyes.

The homes ground floor was as silent as it had been all evening, not even the gently thrumming vents placed in the ceiling generated much more of a sound on the empty air. Each floor between the two main stories had its own heating unit and separate thermostat, the first floor being set to the lowest of the three floors. Vivi wouldn’t mind sitting outside with a light and just casually reading some books, but she couldn’t rebuff Arthur’s worry (he hated the cold for good reasons). Plus, she had to certify that he made the effort for sleep, even if he was going to spend the duration of the night staring at a wall.

Instead of exiting the front doors Vivi turned and passed the stairway on her way, trekking back through the homes ground hall towards the faint illumination of lights. Through the stillness she could pick up on the faint groan of the hardwood floor beneath the carpet, something that wouldn’t normally be heard during the active hours of the day. At some point the home was remodeled, possibly right before the Hirstein’s moved in. A faint creak to her side gave her pause, near the base of the double doors that opened up into the dining room. The house settling, nothing of interest.

A few of the accent lights placed on small shelves and desks were left on, the furniture’s placement was along the walls. The Mystery Skulls preferred to work in the dark, since lightbulbs and electrical cords interfered with the readings on the equipment. These lights were off when last she came through and checked, but she really couldn’t document the occurrence as paranormal activity, more like a lapse of memory. She began switching the lights off and replenished the halls of their gloomy shadows.

She flipped off the last lamp in the circular dining room, beside the row of tall windows. Outside the window lay a frosty landscape of blue fogged backyard, the light from the unimpeded moon fell through the tall windows and coated the interior table, chairs, and polished wood floor with a white sheen that all but matched the freshly fallen carpet of snow outside. The winter and snow could have a suppressant effect on spirits, but she’d have to check information like that online probably. It would be an interesting theory.

The glass was cold, the entire room was frigid but Vivi took no notice. She removed her hand from the backpack strap on her shoulder, and reached out to set her palm on the window pane. That night it had been snowing, thick clumps of flakes falling into her eyes. She’d never felt it so cold before, the breeze cutting right through her coat. Wherever he touched her it burned, but was it the cold or was he so hot it felt cold? It was all a blur, but she could remember how fuzzy everything had seemed. Sometimes she wondered if it had somehow been a dream, but even that was farfetched. She didn’t recall much of the following morning, only that Arthur had been panicked about finding her, though she assured him that everything was fine. Nothing had happened.

 

 

__

The dull headlamps of a car slid through the thickening snowfall, its occupant cautiously navigating their vessel across thick layers of flurries. Once the car has passed and the eerie silence of the gentle snowfall resumed its ambient roll, Vivi crept away from the thick cover of shadows. She paused at the parking lots edge and checked for unseen traffic, but the white clumps were falling so thickly she could scarcely see the distant street bulbs gleaming in the mist above the road.

“No one will see anything,” she murmurs, to the figure standing over her. Her breath swirled in a wispy cloud around her face. “If they do, I’ll kick their ass.” A scratch of static emits from the figure holding her shoulders, prompting her to clutch the little bundle of bright cloth in her hand tighter to her chest.

“Geez,” Lewis managed. “Aggressive?” The voice broke off into a dimming rattle. He tries to keep the sheet from the motel room wrapped around his form, but there isn’t much form to brace the folds up around. He raises a hand to Vivi’s cheek when she begins to turn her head. “Vi… please.”

“I know,” she hums. “Habit. Let’s… the vans not far.” Vivi raises her free hand up over her shoulder to touch Lewis’ arm. She can grip the could space of cloth that must be his sleeve but it doesn’t feel solid, its feels about as substantial as her own breath. Her fingers tighten through the pseudo fibers, and she takes careful slow steps onto the slick asphalt. “Steady. Steady,” she says. She can’t hear Lewis follow but his could presence hovers around her. “I’m sure it’s this way.”

“M’not worried,” Lewis rattled, the short sentences peppered by sputters and hitches. “Eyes ahead.”

“Not like I’ve never seen a ghost before,” Vivi retorts.

“This is—” Lewis countered.

Vivi sighs, and blinks at the fog in her eyes. “This is different,” she echoed. “Yeah. Yeah, I… haven’t. It’s not like I’m forgetting.” She had to stop, not because Lewis was holding her back but she could feel him dragging. His hands linger on her shoulders, and though Lewis doesn’t grip her through the coat, Vivi had lost sensation in the skin under his hands. So cold it burns, but she would never betray a hint of this minor discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” Lewis gargled, his voice an old memory of its once projection. “Ground me. That’s all. I’m still… not there.”

“I don’t care what you say,” Vivi choked. She glanced the road over, either way she looked was a wall of swirling white haze, like static. Snow. It was very late and visibility was so low. “This is too much for you. If you can’t possess Arthur,” A gentle finger set to her cheek reminds her to keep her attention straight. “You can possess me. I’m stronger, and I won’t fight you. That’s always an option.”

“No… no, my blueberry,” Lewis rumbled. “I can’t… risk. The call. A… intercessor. I can’t do that.” A few yards ahead, he can make out the outline of the van shimmering gray against the hazy backdrop of flurries. “For me? I can’t— won’t bear you hurting. Please. Trust me.”

 

 

__

Vivi pulled her hand from the foggy handprint on the window. “Lewis. Why? Why would you—” She spun about, surprised by warm laughter coming from the open doors of the dining room. The light of the large chandelier above the table blazed with an orange gleam and a few plates had been set atop the table, which was now relocated near the dark windows.

Across the room a swinging door opens, and a woman with curly orange hair enters from the kitchen. She marches away from the curved wall carrying a large plate, and the sultry smell of cooked food fills the room. “Kids, kids,” she calls. “Settle down, or you’ll wait for your breakfast.”

Vivi caught herself before she could take a breath. She held perfectly still, and only followed the movement of the taller woman with her eyes. Two figures charge in from the dining room door, one clad in a robe while the other was dressed in pajamas.

“Dad says we’re going fishing when he gets back!” The boy, in his teens, maybe preteens, dashes over to a chair and pulls it out from under the table. He makes a face at the taller girl, who Vivi presumes to be Jezebel.

“Mom. Tell him to stop lying!” The girl scrapes her chair back and sits on her knees on the seat.

The mother sets the large plate down on the table’s center, upon its platter is piled bacon and a mass of steaming scrambled eggs. “If you want my contribution,” the mother says, as she leans on a firm hand set to the table. “You might want to learn some manners.”

“Please mom,” the girl enunciates, and rolls her eyes.

“Robbi, go get the glasses,” the mother ordered. She began laying out silverware to the side of the plates. Robbi dropped the knife he had picked up, and pressed his fists to the table. He barely got a word out before his mother snapped her finger towards the kitchen door. “No buts. Go get those glasses.” When Robbi was through the swinging door and out of the room, the mother turned to her daughter and shifted her leaning posture. “Last time you got dad first. It’s his turn this time.”

“But he’s mean to me,” she protests. Charlie squirms in her seat, causing her chair to rock and scrap on the floor. “He keeps taking my stuff and lying about it. I’m always finding my things in his room.”

The mother shakes her head. “You’re not supposed to go into other peoples room, Charlie.”

Oops. Vivi returned her attention back to the swinging door as Robbi stomped back in.

The mother left the kids at the table, and walked towards the wide doors that exited the dining room. “And she wants a computer for her room,” she mumbled.

“Um, hello!” Vivi called. The whole room went silent all at once. The son and daughter were in the middle of pulling bacon and eggs onto their plates, jarred and frozen when their eyes found Vivi where she had remained unmoving by the furthest windows; or as Vivi presumed, spontaneously appeared. No one moved, none of them knew how to react to the sudden appearance of a strange and mysterious individual. It was kind of exciting to say the least. A ravel of bacon slipped off Robbi’s fork and hit the tables polished surface. “Yeah,” Vivi breathed. “How’s it going?”

The mother moved from the door, her steps quickening as she rushed over to Vivi. “What do you think you’re doing in my house?” she snapped. “Who are you?” Vivi expected the spirit to rush her, but the woman stopped short of her. The son and daughter scrambled from their chairs and hurried away from the table to stand in the large doorway. They didn’t leave. “I demand an answer! Don’t just gawk at me.”

“What year is it?” Vivi prompted. She backed up into the wall and waited. The window suddenly felt warm, though it was still dark outside. Vivi took note she couldn’t see the yard or the snow, but she had no way of documenting this experience unless she risked breaking eye contact. She had some equipment, but she was not prepared.

“What kind of a question is that? It’s nineteen ninety-nine,” the mother growled, defensive. Then, a puzzled expression hit her face, and her brows knitted together. She looked human, but this did not surprise Vivi. “I don’t need to answer your questions. Tell me, what it is you’re doing in my house. Are you someone from the church?”

“Not exactly,” Vivi began. She shifted the backpack at her back, and the woman took notice of it. “I’m not here to cause you any trouble. I wanna try and talk with you about some things, you and your family… maybe you should all be together for this.” The mother’s expression had not changed, and the kids were probably on the verge of running, if not more. “You don’t seem to understand what… how do I put this? Things have changed— Not in a bad way, but I guess it depends how you look at it.” Vivi raised her hands to her face and rubbed at her lower eyelids with her fingertips. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“Not in the slightest,” the mother hissed. “Kids, go ‘round to the kitchen and call the police.”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa!” Vivi put her hands up and showed her palms. “Lemme have a chance to explain, no more than a minute. If….” She stops speaking when Mystery pushes the swinging door to the kitchen open and pads in. He carries a thin item in his mouth. “You…?”

The mother tracks the dogs progress as he crossed the floor to Vivi. “That your dog?”

“Sometimes,” Vivi admitted. Mystery hops up onto his rear legs and Vivi can see what it is he brought to her. “Have you ever seen one of these before?” Mystery balanced his paws on Vivi’s coat front, until she removed the thin smartphone from his jaws. The dog drops sideways to the floor and taps away.

“Of course I have,” the mother retorts. She steps aside as Mystery passes by, and keeps an eye on the white mutt as he moved to the dining room entrance where her kids were still waiting. “It’s just one of the new phones everyone’s been buying. I picked mine up weeks ago.”

“Can you show me how it works?” Vivi offered. She takes one slow step forward, and another, the phone held out in her hand. The mother takes the phone from her with a huff, and begins working the touch screen.

“I don’t understand what you want me to do. Do you have music on this?” the mother mutters. “Or do you want me to dial a random number?”

While their mother was distracted, Charlie and Robbi take to Mystery like any youngsters would. Charlie dropped onto her knees and Mystery pranced right up to her and let the girl embrace him. Robbi stood by, protective brother, and gave Mystery a cautious pat on the head.

“Okay,” Vivi went on, returning her eyes to the mother. “When exactly did you buy yours?”

The mother paused and looked back to Vivi. “I don’t know the exact date, my husband… he bought it.” She hands the phone back over to Vivi. “This game isn’t funny, and I’m about ready to lock you in a closet. You tell me right now what you’re trying to get at.”

“Be a little patient,” Vivi pleads. None of them had notice, but all the plates, the platter, and the food were now missing. “Don’t take this the wrong way but, has your husband been gone long? When—”

“I know what you’re implying,” the mother snarled. She caught Vivi by the wrist and hauled her forward. “And you won’t start this discussion in front of my kids.”

“You’re not paying attention!” Vivi rebukes. “It’s been years, but none of you have changed have you? The phones have, but you’re pretending not to notice.” She holds her ground and the mother is unable to budge her, or drag her shoes over the slick floor. “You’ve seen a calendar, but a lot of time has passed you by. Hasn’t it? And you haven’t thought about the last time your kids didn’t need to ask who would get to spend time with their father first when he came home. Have you?”

The grip on her wrist was gone in an instant, and when Vivi blinked the room was once more detailed by dark shades and ribbons of bright moonlight. In her hand the phone was clutched tightly, and the one time occupants of the home had vacated the room completely. The atmosphere resumed its suppressing silence, the dining room set and surrounding furniture had resumed its shape as the Hirstein’s property. But the air still lingered with fresh bacon and eggs, and a warmth that machines could not replicate.

But Vivi was aware of a presence, waiting. From the edge of her shady peripheral came slight movement, and she knew it couldn’t be Mystery. Once she acknowledged that it was known the shadow inched out from the side of the room, closer to the light where its outline absorbs definition. Quickly, Vivi twists to face the figure and struggles to identify it. Another ghost lingering in the home?

“It’s just me,” the voice hums, its bright eyes dimmed in the swarming black hue. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you looked like you had everything under control.”

Vivi frowned a bit and wondered if it was the light, or if she was still under the effects of the illusion winding out of her. “Who’s ‘me’?”

A beat passed, and there was a palpable hitch of emotion from the dark figure. “Mi,” he sputtered. “You didn’t forget me or something. ¿Oh Dios lo hizo realmente estropear? No podía manejar dos veces.”

Vivi blinked, and the shadows cleared a bit but it didn’t help with what she was seeing. “Lewis?” The figure recoiled minutely, and the reflex helped her identify the mannerism though… he didn’t look like the Lewis she knew. His long sleeves gleam under the moonlight, but the shadows were soaked into the bright colors of his over shirt. The cloth on his neck, that thing she recognized immediately. “You look different?”

A small smirk crept across his face, as he brought his hands – they did look like actual flesh hands – up and clasped them in front of him. “I could turn on a light,” Lewis murmurs, his voice rising out of a scratchy twinge. “It took a while.” He stopped and waited, but Vivi said nothing. She tries to find words, Vivi’s mind raced, her thoughts impossible to align.

“Well, yes. We—” As she said this Vivi took a few steps towards Lewis, but halts. Alarm overtook her, everything ground to a halt in her head. “I mean. No! This is a bad time, you can’t be here.”

Lewis dithers. “What? I mean, how come?”

“Because we couldn’t introduce you with us when we first arrived,” Vivi explained. She closed the distance between her and Lewis and stared up at his glimmering, ember eyes. “But more importantly, the school specified two investigators and a dog. If they get wind you’re with us, they’ll get suspicious! They have our credentials, and they’ll dig around.” She paused briefly. Lewis hadn’t moved or made a sound, and made no move to depart for the time. “I don’t think they would but… I don’t wanna risk—”

“Are you ashamed to have me around?” Lewis fumed. “‘Cause honestly, that’s what it’s sounding like.” Vivi grabs his arm and tugs him away to the doorway across the room.

“No, that’s not it, Scouts honor,” Vivi sputtered. She circles around her chest, she’s not sure what it means or what she’s doing. Lewis takes a few steps under her persuasive hauling. She was no lightweight. “But the school might start to ask questions, might take away our funding. Since—”

“But it kinda does,” Lewis argued back. He grounded himself, and Vivi couldn’t haul him an inch more. “Is there something else going on that I should know about?”

“You’re being ridiculous!” She marched behind him and tried shoving Lewis, but those results were no better than flat out pulling him.

Lewis tries not to chuckle. “Vi, c’mon.” He was shaky on the amount of time that passed, and where they were exactly. Had something occurred that he wasn’t aware of? “Vivi, you should just tell me right now, if there’s anything I need to know—”

“For gods sake, Lew! Stop being so paranoid. I promise you, there’s nothing!” Vivi nearly raised the roof, and Lewis goes quiet. “And we’re already having problems with this case. I’m worried about this family we found hanging around here— you saw them.” She shuffles around to Lewis side and steps back, Vivi raised the phone to her forehead and pressed it to her skin. “And we don’t have a lot of time to spare for getting it straightened out.” She paused, waiting for Lewis to say something, but he had resumed his silent deliberation. When she glanced up she half expected the room to be empty, but the ghost was still there. “Please, wait in the van for a bit. I need some time to… think, and figure this out.”

A moment endures before Lewis begins to fade, the soft sputter of embers accompany the faint glimmer of his shape dimming. The subtle outline of the skull brightens through his living façade, and it dissolves from the thick gloom. The room becomes cooler by degrees, indicating that Lewis had been present as he said. She shouldn’t have been upset, but she couldn’t dissuade the heavy apprehension. It wasn’t fair on Lewis.

“He just woke up,” Vivi murmured. She moved away from the circular table and stepped out of the dining rooms French doors. He just woke up, came out to check on her, and in a panic she sent him away. “I’m glad Lew. I didn’t say that, did I? But I am. I wasn’t expecting you to show up. I was, I didn’t mean to forget about you.”

The lights in the hall had stayed off this time. Vivi checked the backdoors of the porch, and then followed the contours of the hall dusted by the pale illumination filtering through glass doors. “Mystery!”

The dog sat to the side of the wall near the arm chairs, ears high and his crimson eyes gleaming. He made a low whining, it sounded haunting bouncing off the open walls of the hall.

“You… you heard all that?” Vivi whimpered. She had forgotten Mystery had been looking after her, hadn’t left. Her brave protector, could save none of them from their errors.

Mystery didn’t answer he only stood from the chair, and walked around to Vivi. He nudged the side of Vivi’s leg with his brow, and Vivi stepped forward as he pushed her along. The dog encouraged her toward one of the comfy armchairs Vivi had sat in earlier that day.

“Why did I yell at him?” Vivi whispered, as she sat down. She took the backpack off and slipped the phone through the open zipper in its side. Mystery took the bag from Vivi’s hands and set it gently on the floor beside the chair. “We’re two floors down, it’s late. He wouldn’t be seen, he didn’t deserve that.”

Mystery grumbled and bumped Vivi’s leg with his shoulder. He raised his head and set his chin on her lap, then stared up at her with his bright white face. He blinked as Vivi rubbed his head.

“I don’t feel much like talking now,” she mumbled. Mystery took a breath and let out a noisy sigh. “When was the last time we checked the van? I didn’t know he woke up.” She set her elbow on the armrest and placed her chin on her palm. It felt good to rest her head, and the chair was so compelling with its large cushioned headrests that curved out above her shoulders. She leaned her shoulder on one armrest and shut her eyes. “I need to go talk to him. I don’t want him to disappear, or at least warn me… about it.” Mystery whined. “I expect too much. It’s too soon. There’s too much I don’t understand. I wish they would tell me.”

Vivi’s meditative gesture on Mystery’s ear lessened little by little, and then ceased finally and was replaced by her steady breathing. Mystery kept one ear raised and let his eyes slip shut. It was too late for this. They could wait for the morning, the sunlight. They needed rest, but there was none for the weary soul.

 

 

__

The locket sat placid in his palm as he traced over its surface with his thumb. One time he had wanted to believe it had kept him stable, that it as a gift was powerful enough to keep him bound to a physical existence. That’s how it should have been. He could make it work, but the dangers involved. It was too risky, too soon. Time had passed, his grasp of time was skewered, but something did happen in his absence while he was unable to get involved. Vivi was distressed and he ignored the evident cues. She wasn‘t angry, just… surprised. It was nothing to get alarmed over. Give her space. Sometimes people needed space.

Lewis pressed his thumb to the locket, and the door clicked open. Was it the locket that kept him shackled, or its contents? Don’t value the vessel, value its contents. He curled his fingers over the edges of the bent frame and pulled the open locket to his face. The precious bequest was him, it was a part of him and it was a piece of what he thought was the most cherished thing in his life short life. The residue of a memory. How ironic. Somewhere in a long ago time, he swore it was for her. But how do you explain away the injustice of your death? He had arisen before his blood had cooled across the… the.

Those distorted reflections plagued a memory, a piece of his soul that comprised his reality. The locket was still open, he should focus on it, lose himself in fond memories, the shadows of a vague and distant history. Rumination was vital for maintaining his physicality. This soon after rising he had no concern for maintaining a strong projection, but the time passing did loosely tangle over his ethereal core, trying to reclaim him as its reluctant passenger. It was disorientating and in a way he was glad no one had been in the van earlier. The coffin… he never intended for Vivi to see it. But he seemed unable to escape that facet of his new existence, just as the locket was his cherished reminder of a lost past, his shelter lingered as the grim aide-mémoire to the endnote of that life.

It wouldn’t benefit his habituation to jump at conclusions, but it wouldn’t be beyond Arthur’s capacity to allude something. Though, he was certain Arthur wouldn’t risk it. The whole situation left Lewis unsettled, and Arthur badly misunderstood his intentions; if that‘s what they could be described as. Too much was shared between them, more than Lewis was comfortable to admit. Fading. Identity crumbling away. That sensation hung on him. For the frailest instant, Lewis had wholly ceased to be. The lapse of time, jumping possession and dormancy, none of it had been a good sequence to undertake. A part of Lewis was astounded Arthur hadn’t….

Mistakes. That’s all it was, but in his susceptibility he didn‘t realize what was happening until it was over and done with. He could never tell Arthur. Their relationship was strained and it shouldn‘t be that way.

A thin slice of light worked its way over the fold of blanket that lay crumpled on the vans floor. Lewis watched it for a short while as it crept and flowed with the dipping curves of the rumpled cover, and eventually he did realize the windshield was filled with bright simmering light of the new dawn. He stopped paying attention to the progress of light and focused on the colors, distilling from bright orange to golds and yellows. Would it be different someday if he shared a dawn with someone? He imagined it would be.

The sudden banging to the side of the van snapped Lewis from his musings. He jarred and immediately glanced down at his hands. Where were they parked? The police? His hands held their dark shade and bleached knuckles for a brief moment, but he somehow managed to drag the illusion back. He wasn’t ready to shed it yet, it had been… he looked normal.

“Lewis?” the muffled voice called through frigid wall. Vivi! “Are you in there? Can we open up the van?”

We? His hands clutched the locket; tarnished, lost, a reflection. “Uh, I’m up,” Lewis replied. “Just a sec. I’ll let you know when!” He shut the locket and slipped it through the front of his vest. He held the artifact stationary for a moment, until it had stabilized. “Okay. You can open up now.” Lewis was smoothing out the front of his ‘shirt’ when the driver side door slung open, and leaning through the sun filled doorway was Vivi. “Hey! Whoa… did you sleep?”

Vivi climbed up onto the seat, and adjusted her glasses slightly as she nodded. The poof of hair on one side of her head was frizzy while her coat was etched with deep wrinkles. She looked adorable. Dangerous and annoyed, but adorable. “Mm hm. Art, he‘s kind of—” She kept herself anchored by the steering wheel and leaned out, calling for Arthur. “You said you were with me!” The crunch of ice churned near the outer wall of the van, fading for a short while before returning somewhere outside. Lewis waited, uncertain over this new situation, while Vivi exchanged her grip on the vans doorframe and leaned out. As she began to shift back, shuffling her knees over the bench seat, she brought with her another hand. She gave the grip a reassuring squeeze as Arthur inched through the open door, his shock of blond hair timidly crept into view followed by a wide eye. In the refracted snow light streaming through the windshield it was difficult to discern clearly, but Lewis did conclude that Arthur was trembling. “You’re doing good.” Briefly, Vivi’s eyes snapped Lewis’ way, but she kept her unwavering focus set upon Arthur.

“Art?” Lewis prodded.

Arthur did move, without further prompting. He sort of sank forward onto the driver seat, held up mostly by Vivi and her iron grip on his only hand; why he was ‘unarmed‘ was for now a mystery to Lewis. The terror struck expression Arthur had frozen on his face never left Lewis, and Arthur didn’t speak – Lewis couldn’t be sure if he was even breathing at all.

“Say something,” Vivi whispered. “Anything. Art. Are you okay? Is this too much?” Vivi had to hold her fist up to keep Arthur from falling face first into the seat. Arthur’s hands were white enough to put Lewis’ bones to shame, his inability to speak was both unsettling and irritating. “C’mon Art. If I’d known… you should have said something. Shit.” Vivi balanced herself on her knees and hunched forward, she pressed her free hand to Arthur’s cheek. Arthur blinks, but his eyes lack recognition and had that glossy hue. Sleep was lost on him. “You could have waited. I told you—”

“I’m here,” Arthur burbled. “Here. Heh. I need a— I need a moment, Viv-vi. I’m still here, though I gotta….” He cleared his throat, or wheezed out some kind of obscure reply. Arthur pried his fingers loose of Vivi‘s hand, though Vivi dithered to release her own grip. “Gimmie some space?” Vivi let her hand slip from Arthur’s, this allowed him to place his lone hand to the bench seat and brace himself as he leaned forward. That far away stare held his rapt attention, his mind lost in that bog of irresolution where his nightmares festered. Green, cold, decay. Lewis could only ponder what Arthur withheld from him.

“Too deep,” Lewis murmured, voice edging out of a somber rumble. “Focus… on my voice. Come back.” He edged forward, and raised his hand towards Arthur’s head. Arthur blinked, and some of the depth in his eyes returned. “You’ve gone too—”

“Don’t,” Arthur mumbled. “Don’t… touch me.” Arthur stared at Lewis’ hand but didn’t move, he just stared, eyes alone roving from the face, to the shoulders. Nothing spoken, only a mild examination. Arthur blinked a few times, and a small smile twitched at the corner of his lip. “Sharp as always, Lew.”

Hesitantly, Lewis looked down at his false attire. He hadn’t lowered his hand from reaching for Arthur, but he did so now and gave the other a quizzical frown. It would’ve helped if he had some sunglasses to cut the brightness of the sky, but no poor quality of light could conceal the dishevel stamped into Arthur’s clothes. “And you look like you settled for what wasn’t dirty,” Lewis retorts. He hadn’t meant to snap back, but it felt natural enough.

“Lew!” Vivi hissed. She returned her sight to Arthur when he began snickering. Not only that, but Arthur began to spiral into deepening laughter that was marred only by his ill throat. Uneasy by the sound of it, Lewis shuffled back and placed his hands on the floorboard and braced himself. Neither Vivi nor Arthur had noticed. Vivi was caught by Arthur’s gasping voice and Arthur, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Art? Are you… you gonna be okay? Geez, Art!”

“I’m fine,” Arthur managed between rough sniggers. He keeps trying to say that, even when tears are pouring from his eyes and he has his face buried in the seats back. “Honest, don’t worry,” he gurgles, voice twisted and rising, living and dying all in the same breath. Arthur raised the remains of his shoulder to the seats back, drapes his right arm over the bench, and buries his face in the protective folds of his sleeves. “This is fine. Everything’s fine,” he choked, voice distorted and muffled. “Trust me. Really, I mean it.”

Vivi raised her gaze to Lewis and he shares her concerned expression, but he won’t move. How could he define to Vivi what this cackling meant to him?

 

 

__

Lewis pressed his hand onto the side of the vans frosted metal once he was near, and bided the time before he removed his other hand from Vivi’s shoulder. The van worked, the van was familiar to his residual signature. “This… this is good,” he hummed. “I can go…. Vi, it’s cold. Go.” He tried to stabilize his voice, to press some softness into his vocalizations. Focus was difficult, Lewis fought to keep the sheet from slipping right through what solidity he dragged into his body. “Back to the room.”

Vivi didn’t raise her eyes to him, but she kept one hand looped over the crook of his arm. The steady unwavering thud of the locket trembled through the cloth she held, muffled. “Let me first see that you make it inside,” she said. “You can’t keep the sheet anyway.”

The sheet was one from the motel rooms bed. It worked for Lewis but it was too thin to do Vivi any kindness, which was what Lewis figured she’d take it for if he couldn’t convince her to return on her own. “You’re gonna make me,” his voice dimmed off. If he kept going with the sentence, his vocals would have fallen into faint crackling or something as worthless, he just knew it. “You want me to worry. S’that it?”

“We’re even there,” Vivi chattered. A dull screeching emitted from the vans metal hull, and Vivi could make out Lewis’ hand at the edge of her vision, on the icy metal as his palm slipped down. She unwrapped the ratty cloth from around the gilded locket, and turned her face into her shoulder as she pressed the locket to Lewis’ chest. “I’ll go back to the room. Priorities first.”

“ ~~I’m a priority?~~ ” Lewis tried to say. The noise he managed was a low, undesirable pop-buzz. He tried not to let it show how it affected him. Snow fell, collecting along the edge of Vivi’s scarf and glasses, though her face was turned away. Lewis slipped the locket from her fingers and stuffed it under the coat fold of his suit; it didn’t need another crack.

“Are you…” Vivi hesitated, and shivered. She closed her eyes as Lewis moved a hand to her face and began brushing the delicate flakes off her glasses. “Are you in pain? Can I ask?” she murmured. “Do you hurt in some way? I need to know.” Without meaning to she raised her face toward Lewis, but missed the awkward shrug that was done to slip the thin sheet off his broad shoulders. The white, nearly transparent folds fell over her face, leaving only the dull haze of a street lamp stubbornly glowing above. Vivi could make out Lewis’ silhouette under the frail backdrop.

“I can’t hurt, I—” He didn’t care that his voice failed. Lewis wouldn’t relate that the only sensations he perceived came through recycled suggestion, and his emotions and shortcomings were what reached a vivacious cognizance. A spirit lacked weight and substance, how could a… thing that lacked nerves know to fear pain? “Dislocation,” he hummed. “Fracture.” Lewis pulled the sides of the sheet tighter around Vivi’s quivering shoulders, and tilted his skull when she leaned on him. He wanted to warm her, protect her from the open air, and from the chill that seeps from his form, but he can’t. “I can… sense you, more’n anything. It’s cold, Vi,” he rattled, voice a frail sizzle. “Don’t….”

It was important to remind Vivi how frigid the air was around her, how even her impervious winter aura was vulnerable to the ruthless elements. Lewis tried to rouse her, wake her from the falling before she could collapsed in his arms. But he couldn’t. He grasped the frail wisps of what feral heat remained in his core to stave off hypothermia, until the dawn would proceed the long hours of the night. When Vivi awoke she would find the dark box waiting – Lewis loathed that she would see it, but it couldn’t be helped. It was what it was, and nothing said could change that fact.


	29. Chapter 29

**Customs Check**

The group came in about around the time the morning shift ended, when the lamps in the diner’s inner rooms bad been shut off. This is on the verge of the breakfast rush, when the local patrons swarm in for the early bird specials before the time slot expired. Probably students, they weren’t regulars, but I had never seen them before. The two guys carried a few beaten up books stuffed with pages, a lot of it notebook paper, and the girl carried a laptop. I guessed they were ready for a day haul or something, that wasn’t all uncommon.

“Just find yourself a seat,” my supervisor chirped, without an upward glance to the newcomers. He passed by with a tray loaded with plates, headed toward the kitchens walk-in entrance across the room. “Someone will be with you in a moment.”

“Any open plugs?” the girl queried. I really wasn’t paying attention, while in the midst of wiping down a table and collecting some coffee mugs. However, I knew where a few of our plugs were for the cleaning, and the tall guy was a hunk.

“In the back room, over there. There’s a booth in the back corner by some,” I offered, as I straighten up and motion with my rag hand toward a doorway. “It’s kind of quiet too.” I conclude wiping down the tables surface and the seats, then pluck up the mugs and return to the kitchen.

The clatter of metal pots assaults my ears and the snap-clack of a spatula on the grill. The kitchen atmosphere is hot and noisy, as the cooks work to fend the grills from scorching smoky eggs and potatoes. Again I remind myself to appreciate the stifling temperature, the walk to my car will be cold and that’ll last until I reach my apartment, since my heater decided to stop working.

I pass between the tall steel bar where the heating lamps dangle, and the coffee station. Under the low hanging lamps awaits the next order of pancakes and ham. My co-worker Stella is over by the coffee station, putting in another filter and filling up the tank. I pass her on the way to the far side of the kitchen towards the dishwashing rack, and add the mugs to the collection of grungy plates.

 

“We got a live bunch in the house,” I call, for the kitchen staff. “Is anything needed from the freezer?”

 

Flames spit from the cast iron grill opposite to the breakfast cook, and he swats at the bluish gust with his tongs. “Another bag of hash and fries,” he calls at my back. “And shrimp.”

Shrimp? This early? Gross. I don’t argue, I go to the far side of the kitchen and enter the walk in freezer. Our restaurant carries the most basic food groups of the pyramid, either to be flash heated or burnt fast on the grill. I deliver the potato and seafood combination to the fryer station, and still beat Stella out into the dining room.

There’s an issue with the dog. Or a closing issue. The group had a dog with them and none of them had papers for it, but my supervisor was done arguing. Probably a good idea too, since the guy really didn’t have an arm. He probably didn’t want to argue in front of a subordinate either, he was weird like that. My manager could be a real dummy sometimes, like, what’d he think was gonna happen? They’d go somewhere else for breakfast and we’d look like total a-holes for turning away a guy with a disability. Probably wind up with a bad review, but who checked those out anyway? Just my manager.

I didn’t get the gist of the ending discussion, an older couple arrived and had themselves seated so I had to take an order before getting back to the study group. What a waste of time. It gave them a chance to get their stuff settled, without me in the way. The girl shoved her backpack into the booth and climbed right in, while the two guys put a couple of books on the table and organized these shit torn notebooks. Some no longer had their covers and were just pages barely tethered by a spiral ring, and pages filled with this really tight half handwritten and most of it cursive, was it even in English?

“Hey, welcome to Cranberries,” I began, after a sharp breath. My warm expression took an immediate plunge, and they probably saw it. The shorter guy and girl sat on one side of the table and looked really worn out. They sort of glared at me, not a mean glare, but they just kind of projected this suppressed irritation regarding my presence. I was used to that look after finals week. The hunk just raised his eyebrow over the edges of the tinted shades he wore. I couldn’t help but smirk, at least he was nice. “Um, I’m really sorry about my boss. We have strict policy about service animals and—”

“Stop right there,” the girl said. She raised a finger above the blonde guys hunched backside. The smaller guy was pushing a stack of books toward the tables center, and the hunk was staring at them. “We need all of your coffee. And menus. And silverware….”

“Take it easy, Vi,” the hunk broke in. Thank you gentle giant. “She wasn’t the one trying to kick us out.” A white snout poked out from under the table between small guy and girl. “Sorry, rough night,” he explained, and wilted a bit under the girl’s redirected glower. “Some coffee to start, and do you have an appetizer this early? What time was it?”

“Er… how ‘bout the family breakfast plan?” I described it off – a bowl of hash browns, scrambled eggs, a choice of either sausage or bacon. My voice trails off. The girl is really scary, she looks at me like I’m here to steal the big guy away. “How ‘bout the menus, then?”

I nearly forget the older couple’s drinks. Damn, ten minutes in and the days already ruined. Something’s banging around in the kitchen when I enter. I hear water and see steam, one of the cooks probably washing out the larger pots. Stella walks by with a stack of used plates and gives me a little nudge with her elbow as she walks through.

“Carter got them nice and worked up for you, did he?” she sniggered. “Isn’t he the most thoughtful?”

I follow her. “The guy doesn’t know when to mind his own business,” I hiss. This is after, of course, I give the kitchen a short glance around. “He’s great and all with help, but unless someone’s being rowdy or obscene, he doesn’t need to get involved. I mean, I’ve seen worse for fudgen sakes.”

We go our separate ways. Stella drops off the dirtied plates at the dishwasher, and grabs the new orders from the bar. I grab one of the freshly steamed trays and return to the coffee station. The coffee is still brewing but it’s almost done, so I gather up a pot and some mugs from the drying rack and check again. I fill the pitcher, grab some spare glasses along the way and leave the kitchen. I loop around the diners perimeter to hit the fountain dispenser, remember the menus from the front desk, and drop off the fountain drinks for the couple.

The older couple a ways from the doorway to the study tables room, but I can’t see the back corner until I enter the room from this side. It’s a loop, there are two exits or entrances to the dining rooms but only the rooms directly beside the kitchen can be entered from the kitchens side.

I catch a few snips of their conversation. Something about glamour, and I automatically think of some makeup brand like Loreal, but the guy and girl are talking to the bigger guy. The small guy dabs at his nose with a napkin, at first I thought he was crying.

“If something comes up, I can duck out quick,” the hunk was saying. “But I have been working on this for a while, y’know, why not?”

“Y-yeah,” the blonde guy murmured, his voice raspy. “C’see that.” He has one book open, a crushed page is nearly falling out as he holds it elevated off the table and stares over the top.

As I pour out three mugs of coffee the light above the table pulsed on bright and dims, but doesn’t go out. In the winter we usually turn the diners lights off at seven, if the weathers good the sunbeams built into the ceiling would have the rooms filled with natural light.

“Here are those menus,” I say, and passed them out. “If the light keeps giving you problems, you can just unscrew it.” I breeze away for a bit to nab some silverware off the nearest table. It helps keep me from staring at the blond guy as he does everything methodically one handed, from pouring out some sugar from its bottle, to undoing the little utensils wrapped in napkin. I kind of wanted to help him but it’s hard to gauge how handicaps react to assistance. I’ve had to deal with some certified nuts before, that laid out a garden full of hostile intents and just waited by tending their extreme irrationality until some naïve cinnamon bun stumbled through their field of bristling with agitation.

The littler guy was the saddest sight, his vest barely holding his shoulder up rather the other way around, and he kept his eyes downcast from the guy vertical to him, even when he passed over a menu. The hunk gave the menu an edgy kind of scowl and set it aside. “Is there anything else I can get you for the time?” I hold the tray over my legs, hoping for some sort of errand. I don’t know why, the diner was going to be busy in about a few more minutes and I wouldn’t have a moment to text friends.

“Honey,” the blonde states. I’m a little taken. Did he just call me…? “There are none on the table?” He tilts his head away. Oh.

Blue girl checked at the assortment of syrups and condiments at the far end of the table, then turned back. “Honey would be good. Oh, and I am sorry for being ticked off at you… y’know, indirectly.” She straightened her back against the uncomfortable chair and nudged her glasses up a little on her brow. “He’s right, we’ve had a… long night.”

“You’re fine,” I say, and smile. Normally I had no trouble with the students coming through on holiday… they looked like students anyway. It was best to be on good terms, since they looked about ready to move into the diner. “You on vacation? Or visiting family?” I motion my thumb off the tray, towards the books piled on the table.

“Could say that,” the blonde mumbles. He gets poked in the side by the girls elbow, but he doesn’t react much aside from glancing her way, without another word.

“We’re traveling,” the girl says. She’s working at the bag she shoved into the booth, unzips it and slips out a laptop, the sides of it are scuffed and scratched. “This is our last stop before we head back.”

I gave a small forced laugh. “In that case, I’m glad you were able to come by and dine with us this evening.” That was flat out embarrassing. I grimaced and inched away from the table. They – or just the hunk and the girl, the scrawny guy didn’t look up – seemed to share my inner turmoil for waitresses trademark pre scripted lines. “Damnit, that was bad. Wish I had skipped that. Um, give me a few seconds, and I’ll have your honey and get back to you for those orders.”

It smelt like the cast iron grill cook lost another shred of beef through the bars of the stove. The beef was one hundred percent, and if it wasn’t packed and rolled right it’d just sort of fall apart before it was cooked through. I stood off to the side and looked up occasionally, watching as the cook used the scorched tongs to get the piece out before the kitchen was smoked up. I posted about the group that came by, and pined about getting off in six hours. Hopefully I’d get some customers that actually tipped.

I checked on the old couple, but they were content for the time and only needed a refill of soda. A few new customers had come in; a family with rowdy kids and a big guy in a big coat which he would not remove. I went around passing out menus and started people with customary drink orders, a few times I passed by the doorway of the back room and could see the study group being more than antsy about something. I couldn’t get clean ends of what they were saying, but they weren’t being quiet about.

Rather go directly to that group after my rounds, I doubled back to the kitchen to take up a tray for some glasses of milk, and gathered up some food orders ready for the diner. I dropped off the food and made rounds; guy in the coat needed more time; the family didn’t know what they wanted, they thought they did but five kids on the extreme spectrum of age, and the eldest wouldn’t stop screaming about ‘Frozen’ happy meals.

“—their eyes aren’t dark cause they don’t manifest the same way,” the blonde was mumbling into his mug. He stirred the hot drink slowly, hardly looked up when I approached the table and set a bottle of honey down by his cup. The thin figure was leaning out on the edge of the seat now, one leg bent out from his side. “Hey,” he said.

“Are you all ready to order, then?” I heaved a breath. The dog was now seated on the girls lap, she had a menu open and the dog – this dog had little glasses on his snout – he was scrolling through the lunch selection with great meditation. “If my boss catches the dog at the table like that….”

“You gotta get down now,” the girl said. The dog obliged, and slipped between her and the blonde dude to the floor beneath the table. “I know. We were keeping an eye out.”

That was very considerate, though it didn’t feel as such. “I don’t wanna lose my job,” I added. “My boss is really kooky about this sort of thing.” I took the notepad and pen from my apron, and flipped to a semi clean page. “What can I get you? Did you find any appetizers to start with?” I glanced to the hunk guy, but he only had his gaze set on the girl across from him. She didn’t seem to notice, or maybe it was those tinted sunglasses making my eyes play tricks on me. The girl tapped away at the computer, then looked beside her.

“You wanna go first? Art?” she asked. The scrawny guy gave his head a minute shake, and continued sipping at his black drink. “I’m gonna order you some fish and chips, and you’ll work on those. Okay?” The guy didn’t look at her as he adjusted himself on his seat. The dog set its face on his lap, and the small guy lowered his hand to rest on its thick mane. “Fish and chips, an extra buff Chillisaster with a side of Quesadilla, and your ‘I can’t believe it’s not a Texas chicken basket’ special.”

As I jotted all this down, she took the honey bottle and squeezed it into her coffee. The hunk guy hadn’t moved, aside from a shift of his head. I read off the order, and looked at him. “Was that everything? Are you getting something, sir? Sir?”

“Huh? What?” He glanced at his hands, splayed them out onto the two books opened up in front of him and seemed genuinely surprised to see he had hands. “No,” he answered. “She ordered for me.” And that seemed to be the unanimous agreement. Girl orders everything.

“Maybe they’re closer to residual,” the scrawny guy was saying. His question was directed to the girl, mostly. He turned away as he raised his hand, and hacked into the crook of his arm. “Are residual the same as ghosts?” he sniffled.

“There hasn’t been enough case studies gathered to compare the two,” the girl answered, as she typed. “Is your wifi password secure?” she chimes, without looking up.

“No. Just look for Cranberries,” I answer. “I’ll have your orders out as soon as they’re ready.” She said a thank you as I turn to leave.

The family was still working on getting their decisions organized, but for the most part they made an off menu request for burgers and condiments. Guy in the coat was still fine, he admitted he was just warming up and I suspected he was straight off the streets. I’d have to talk with my manage about the guy. Another group of people came in, wanting orange juice and milk; I handed them the menus and returned to the kitchen for more glasses.

The diner began to pick up as noon trickled by, the time spent between impatient customers and the zesty smells of the kitchen was tolerable. I announced orders each time I returned to the kitchen, and either food or refreshments adored atop a tray accompanied me out to the customers. Between the yogurt shack, a clothing store, and a few other odd end shops that shared space in the strip mall, Craneberries always had a steady stream of customers through the course of the daylight hours.

Food went out to the study group, while Carter escorted another arriving group to some seats in the back.

“But you didn’t do anything to… dispel them, did you?” the blue was asking. The laptop was slanted across the table beside her elbow, and an open notebook sat to her opposite shoulder. A couple of the books lay open around the table, the wrinkled notebook paper sticking out of most that I could see. The trio had been idly flipping through the pages and passing the books around, while they waited for the cycle of fresh mugs and bottomless pots of coffee. The brass pots always left the table empty and the scrawny guy’s mug was never full but always warm.

I set the cluttered tray on the neighboring table and began passing out plates weighted with food. “Okay, who got the Chillisaster and Q-dillas?” The girls hand shot up, and I hovered over with the two plates as she reorganized the collection of cold coffee mugs and books.

The hunk was slouched forward facing the blue, his arms crossed over the book before him. He opened his palms and motioned his thumbs outward. “You had everything under control,” he said. His brows creased behind his shades as he frowned. “You didn’t expect me to charge in, did you? That’s part of making a situation worse. What say we give a little credit, where credit’s due.”

“You were getting fish and chips?” I lowered the plate beside the blonde. He glanced up from the duo book and scribbled in notepad he was scanning through, and kind of scooted the items aside to make space.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I was right there,” the hunk added. “I wasn’t gonna let anything happen, if I could help it.” I stood there for a total of forty-five seconds before he realized I was waiting on him to take the chicken tender basket. The menu said a whole pound of chicken, I don’t think it exaggerated that enough.

“Can I get some hot sauce for the ‘dillas?” blue asked, then turned back to the big guy. “Okay. Okay,” she said. “If we get the chance, I’ll ask you about that later. Art, do you….?”

“Don’t drag me into this.” The scrawny guy was picking at the thick potato slices on the plate and nibbled on one.

“Are you done with this pot?” I can feel its empty when I raise it from the table. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you. Aside from the sauce, is there anything else I can hurry on by?” I pointed at the blue when she looked my way, but she shook her head.

“Nope,” the hunk added, as he handed off one of his chicken slices to the girl. “Good for now.” The blue accepted the chicken slice and passed it under the table, where the sounds of snapping jaws and content gurgles became audible. Carter didn’t need to know about this, but I would make sure to do my vacuuming rounds before I got off work later.

Eggs and pancakes, refreshments of juices and dairy gave way to sodas and teas. The guy in the coat finally ordered the super stack sandwich with a side of mozzarella sticks. That saved me from getting in the midst of another drama spiel with my manager, justified or not. The guy in the big coat didn’t give me bad vibes, but he couldn’t just be around taking up space when we had dozens of hungry customers waiting for service too. I hovered around the family with five screaming kids, and balanced them with another family of three – both these tables were always out of some beverage, or wanted more condiments for their burger buns. For all the trouble neither family left a good enough tip, and I was glad when they gathered up their small clan and left.

People started to fill the back room around mid-noon, and I started to get more snippets from the study group. They were practically oblivious to the change in activity around them. After I brought by another pot of coffee and Cranberries trademark picante sauce – which hunk guy curled his nose at (I don’t blame him) – blue needed a pot of hot water and a new mug for tea. I got a good gist of the books they were reading, on the rare occasion one of them had a book raised off the table. Stuff about the true ghost stories, medium exploration, the scientific process of paranormal investigations, and poltergeist… something.

“There’s virtually no evidence to back up peoples claims,” the girl went on, voice livid and high pitched. “They’re hard to explain, but the theory I liked was the pocket dimensions.” She set aside her fork coated in beef chili and mustard, and pressed her hands together forming a circle. “And it kind of does have something to do with residual haunts. This scene is just kind of imprinted in a certain area, their home unchanged. They can be no wiser.”

“There’s a lot of limestone in this region,” scrawny guy said. Aside from poking at his fried potato slices when they first arrived, he really didn’t touch the food. He poured out another mug of coffee and leaned over, toward the girl beside him. “So what’s that?”

Meanwhile, as they discussed onward, I was getting an order from the table across from them. I glance up as my customers trail off, mulling over what had the lowest calorie content. “ _C’mon, order a burger. You can’t go wrong with a burger. Pack it with onion rings, special sauce, bacon, and extra meat_.” I couldn’t make out much of what blue was doing, but the other two seemed absorbed with that spot on the table she worked at. “You know we have a vegetarian deluxe bonus meal plan.” I offer.

Half are absorbed with an iPad one carries, and she’s showing of pictures or something. One girl over twiddles her fingers at the touch screen of her phone, and sets it down on the table. She fixes her hair long hair aside and shifts in her seat, to face me. “Ya, no, see, we’re not like vegetarians.” She fanned herself with a hand, her bright fingernails flashing. “We just ya’know collectively don’t like meat. Meat’s cruel and we, like, really-really hate it.”

“Yeaah,” chimed the girl beside her. “It’s sooo cruel. How can you, just like, handle animal flesh? It’s so hurtful.”

Honestly, I can’t tell if they’re trying to be funny or what. They can’t be real. Eventually their veggies ship does set sail. “So, the low cal stuffed bell peppers with a side of seasoned cucumber bites, and a bowl of berry splash chunks?” I asked the girls, most of them still oogling over the iPad and whatever it displayed. To be fair, two had noticed the purple vested hunk a few tables over.

“Oh mi gosh, isn’t he the hottest piece around?” A few others on the side of the table facing hunk zone deemed the sight worthy of a rating.

The ‘it’s so cruel’ girl whined. “Why can’t my boyfriend be hot like him?”

“Remember H.G. Wells ‘Time Machine’?” The hunk was saying, without a clue to the rabid evaluation the fem. squad had set on him. “The home is still there, or a version of it in a time and place? Wait, no. That’s confusing. Don’t think about it, Art.”

“Too late,” scrawny guy moaned. A thud came from the table.

I try to sound chipper, energetic. “Okay, is that it?” That was not It. They had a whole list of customized orders to dish out, and had to know the precise percentage of the calories in each meal. I made up some numbers, though it was right there BESIDE THE DISH on the menu if they just looked.

“If they all died around the same time,” I overheard the girl say, “the house then just ‘remembers’ the way things were, maybe they’re attached to the home.” She said something here, I couldn’t hear with orders being screamed at me and ‘Why wasn’t I faster at writing?’ Blue went on calmly, despite the assault on human vocabulary that I was subjected to. “I mean, that’s an explanation for why they’re still around.”

A low noise hums on the air. I think it might be the electricity in the wiring, but I can’t place the exact sound of it. I only noticed when the lights came on again, brightening dully in turn before losing all power. A few of the customers notice this time.

“How can we be sure it’s not them that’s making the illusion?” The hunk asks, poses. I don’t know.

“Okay,” I say, and flip the menu shut, “you know you’ll have to pay the difference.” They’ve done this before. “It might take a while, but I’ll go ahead and get your short cake milkshakes started.”

“It could work either way,” the girl chirps.

The guy in the coat was waiting for a friend. I took the new arrivals order, and stole a few empty stacks of plates for the kitchen dishwasher. I place the super complex orders for the Barbie’s and ask Mabel, part of the noon staff, to mix up a whole round of milkshakes.

Most of our customers stay for only an hour and take off, but a few stick around for several hours on either the internet or read a book (or two or three). The guy in the coat and his friend leave a sizable tip, and I’m glad Carter didn’t get involved with them at all.

I dropped off milkshakes and return to the slightly subdued study group. A ‘bite’ had been taken from a fish slice, and a few of the potato slices were missing.

“—be better to get an obscure sound,” the blonde muttered. He was wearing headphones with the cord attached to a small box sitting on the table, the digital device or whatever was by the blank page of a notebook with a column of times written down. He pulled one ear muff from the side of his head and grinned. “What if, just saying ‘if’, you do some mild manipulation? Then we can focus on the ghosts as a priority.”

The hunk didn’t look up. He flipped a page of the book he was reading and handed it across the table to the blue. “No,” he rumbled. He picked up the next book that lay open on the table. The girl set the book she was given down, and shifted a bit over to check her laptop screen.

“It’s a joke,” the scrawny guy mumbled. “Take a joke Lew, you need one to lighten up.” He glanced my way when I reached the table. At his feet lay the dog, curled up over his white tennies. The dog has been a model guest, better than some of the people that flooded through after season end games.

“If you’re done with that basket, and the plate,” I say, indicating the blues empty quesadilla plate. “Thank you.”

“Are you planning to tell the Hershey’s about the nature of their tenants?” the hunk asked. He had his finger pressed to some line in the notebook, and slouched to the side with his other arm holding his head up.

The girl hands me a cold coffee mug, and hesitates as I balance it in the chicken tender basket. “I wanna gather more info. It’s tedious,” she nods toward the blonde beside her, “but maybe we should focus on getting our facts together? Hm?”

“Are you ready for your check?” I insert. “Or is there something else I can get you?” Without meaning to, I glance to the plate of fish and chips. The scrawny guy leans to the side and pressed his face into his shoulder.

“We’ll be here a bit longer, if that’s all right?” the girl replied. She’s digging around in the backpack beside the wall, until she produces a camera. With practiced ease she pops the panel in its corner edge open and slips out a tiny SD reader. “I could do with some more tea, and a glass of plain water, no ice.” I glance the hunks way, but he just looks away and motions slightly with the hand splayed over the notebook.

As I walk away, I can hear the blue say behind my back, “Art. Try and eat some more.”

There’s a shrill break in his voice, as he coughs. “I’m doin that. Don’t pressure me.”

The Cranberries diner reaches its midday lull. The complicated table gets their meals, and I only have to take five of the seven plates back on three different occasions to fix their orders – why we don’t have regulations for this sort of thing will forever mystify me. I’m not surprised they don’t tip. On one occasion while I’m in the kitchens back, I make it a point to warn the cooks about the weird power flares the restaurants been having. For now, the kitchen seems unaffected. Carter gets wind of the problem and offers his usual ‘I’ll look in to it.’ The old couple takes some soup and pie to go, the antiquatedness of this conclusion strikes me as endearing.

Eventually people have stopped screaming at me for refills, and I have enough time for a lunch and send out some text posts to a few friends, finalizing out the evenings plans once my shift is done. I do my rounds clearing out the used plates and take the bottle of spray cleaner for the tables. We’re a bit overstaffed and aside from a few regulars and the study group, I look for another task to keep busy with while filling out orders. I know it gets obnoxious when me and my associates keep coming around to the tables with the same questions, but if we don’t look like we’re looking after the customers, I guarantee you Carter will catch us somewhere and give us his classic undermining talk. At least, until someone happens upon the scene and it gets ten times more awkward.

“The only article that keeps popping up is this fire, no mention of deaths,” blue muttered. She sounded irritated, so I only pass through to drop off another pitcher of just hot water and deposit a few teabags, then go. “There’s absolutely no information about surviving families.” I walk a little faster and hide out in the kitchen.

One of the cooks had extra onion rings left over from early noon, and I shared them with Mabel and a few of the janitors that popped up around the kitchen for the maintenance cleans.

“He is such a beef cake,” Mabel was saying. She leaned out from the large entrance of the kitchen and at this precise angle, we could see across to the furthest doorway to the back room and a few of the tables within. Scrawny guys leg was barely visible through the doorway, but I knew who she was talking about. “You gonna ask him for his number?”

“Mabel!” I scold, and reach out to slap her shoulder. She only giggles and chews on her onion ring. “I think he’s already taken, or has to be. A guy like that.” I bite my lip as I struggle to suppress a grin, but fail.

“Never stopped you before,” she sniggered. Mabel waggled her eyebrows and stuck her tongue out at me. She always teased me like this, but I did the same to her when she was waiting on a hot guy. It didn’t save her from my wrath though. I knocked the onion ring out of her hand, and she wailed as it hit the tile floor and tumbled up under a rolling cabinet. “You saboteur!”

“Serves you right.” I nodded her way, as I crossed the kitchen to the coffee tanks and filled up another pot. I picked up a tray and a few empty glasses, and hit the fountain dispenser as I circled the dining room.

A new cluster of people had already seated themselves in the front room near the entrance. “We’ll be with you in a moment,” I called. I delivered the cold drink to a couple with a baby near the back room, then entered to check on the study group. Already I can see something’s up, I’m not sure what, but after dealing with enough characters over the years you get to a point where you can kind of detect a shift.

First off, the plat of fish and chips is virtually untouched since the last time I’ve been by. The group as a whole is quiet; probably due to the thin guy snuggling into the crook of his arm with his hand curled up by a near empty cup of coffee, the syrupy swill of undissolved sugar languishes in the bottom. The blue is fully engrossed with her laptop as I come up, and she occasionally jots notes down in her notebook. Beef cake has his attention on a book, the same book he’s had for the day and he just sort of flips through each page slowly; even without seeing his eyes I can tell he’s not reading. I’d rather run off again, but I was already here.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I start, softly. I don’t need to ask if the small guy is asleep, he is or wants to be left alone. “I brought a new pot.” That sounded traitorous, but I replaced the old pot with the new pitcher. I had no idea how many cups the scrawny dude had drunk, or how he managed to sleep under all that sugar. “Can I take some of your cups? And, do you guys want a desert or something?”

“Yes, please.” The blue gathers up some of the empty glasses, and I balance them on my tray. “I’m sorry,” she says, as she hands over the fish and chips. “I don’t think we’re ready for anything else, aside from more drinks maybe.” The cold fish pieces have taken on that translucent gummy color, as if the air was toxic to them as they had sat exposed. “We’re good for now. Oh, do you have any fruit sodas?”

“We have Purple Stuff,” I say, as I transfer empty mugs onto the tray. The scrawny guy’s knuckles twitch as the ceramic cups clink together. “You want some of that? Or something else?” I look over at the hunk and felt my face heating up. That’s right, his color theme was purple. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Oh geez. Oh geez. Fix this. Fix this! “But we have an assortment of fruit themed—”

“Purple Stuff! Perfect,” blue chirped. Then, of all derailed conversations, she turned to the hunk across from her. “Huh. You’re really purple.” The hunk dropped his book onto the table with a _plunk_ and grabbed at the front of his shirt vest; he stared at blue, then looked over at me. Scrawny guy gurgled something in his sleep and sort of shifted a bit, his stump twitches at his side.

“Well, I’ll go and get that for you then.” I shouldered the awkward tray and began backing away a little. All I needed now was to fall down and break something, and probably the hunk would be the first of them to help me and pick up the mess. I would practically die of embarrassment if that happened. “Anything at all,” I went on, voice a little creaky. This is absolutely the worst. “Just give a holler, and someone… I’ll be right by. Thanks. Bye. I’ll be back, okay.” I hasten back to the kitchen, drop off the tray and dishes, then head on out and pass out more menus for a group of newcomers. After all this, I completely forgot about her drink.

 

__

Cranberries were a nice little restaurant chain and they offered a large variety of foods from Hawaiian dishes, Irish classics, a lot of American, or whatever else was popular across the continents. For the assorted range, the quality wasn’t the highest but it was better than Flapjacks, and had customized menus for the adventurous. It was the perfect place to try for a customized pizza, and Vivi had hopes of encouraging an appetite out of Arthur. The theory had been a good one but, Arthur’s cold was a high stakes factor for his inability to eat. Vivi was virtually at a loss if not for Mystery’s aid, he had forced Arthur to take a chicken filet, and then threatened to cease eating himself until Arthur had a bite more of some food.

Aside from the meal and some necessary catching up, they were able to analyze the collected media from the previous night. They wouldn’t dream of dedicating themselves to the critical work of their investigations in the Hirstein home, it wasn’t worth the risk.

The pictures taken the night before rendered undiscernible results at best, and nothing Vivi would dream of bothering Arthur with enhancing later for further scrutiny. Some of the images did have potential, she felt with her expertise of persuasion she could make the lead paranormal professor see shadows in the photograph. If only she had thought to snap a picture with the phone when she was caught in the former household of deceased members, but if the illusion was as fragile as she suspected then it probably wouldn’t have mattered.

Vivi disconnected the SD card and returned it to the protective slot in the camera. She raised her hand above her glasses and rubbed at her eyelids. How long had they been sitting around? An audible shuffled came from Arthur, as his hand jerked against the coffee stained spoon resting on its napkin. “At least he’s sleeping,” Vivi murmured.

“Yeah,” Lewis mumbled. The tone and voice sounded natural, as if he were using lungs, but there remained an off scratchy tang in his utterance while he was distracted. “Background garble would put me into a comma too.”

Carefully, Vivi pulled the ears muffs out from over Arthur’s head and raised them to her ears. Verifying there was no audio playing through she plucked up the digital recorder beside Arthur’s head, and tucked it into the backpack beside her. “He’ll bounce back in a few days,” she assured. “It’s the worse being sick while on the road.” She lifts her gaze and sees that Lewis was no longer mindlessly flipping the pages of his book, and was now reading the passage he had found thoroughly. Or was he? “Do you remember being sick?”

Lewis tensed, and a little flash of ember spiraled from the peak of his pompadour hairstyle. “How many days was I asleep?”

“Four,” Vivi answered. “What does that… ah.” She put her hands around her tea mug and felt the cold ceramic on her palms. “You knew Art was—”

“Can we change the radio?” This time Vivi could tell that Lewis was reading something in his book. She didn’t ask what it was, Lewis probably wasn’t as absorbed in the text as he wanted to be.

“I need to stretch my legs for a bit.” Vivi crawled over the back of the booth, despite Lewis’ protests of ‘Vivi don’t.’ “Vivi, yes,” she proclaimed, and slid out from the neighboring booth. She smoothed out her skirt and then knelt a bit. “You wanna come too?” Lewis was about to glide on out, when Mystery launched himself from under the table and joined her. “I know you’re a gentleman and you won’t follow. After all, someone needs to keep an eye on Artie.” Vivi waved back over her shoulder, and Mystery followed with a few departing yips directed at her back.

Lewis scooted back into his seat and gave Arthur his attention. Arthur was out, like, did Arthur court commas or something? He reached over and poked at the little sliver of skin visible at the top of Arthur’s forehead, just beneath the dark strands of hair. A low shudder twittered from Arthur, he stuffed his face down into the crook of his arm and quivered visibly.

From the kitchen in the room over, a muffle scream shot up and the sound of something like a plate or glass cracking echoed to the furthest side of the diner. Currently, there was no one in the back room where their group set up shop, but Lewis had seen a woman in the next room turn her head up curiously to the sudden commotion. Pretty soon they’d start to see shadow people too. It was best not to give such a situation much thought, they would be leaving soon… he hoped.

Lewis readdressed his book, and flipped through a few more pages as he scanned the title headings. It was one of Vivi’s rarer tomes that she had not yet parted with (Duet would absolutely have it if Vivi let on she had found it). The contents of the book covered haunting manifestos and theories behind poltergeist activities, and recounted some of the earliest recorded documentations of spiritual contact in Western culture. Much of the content was a challenge to follow, though the greatest disappointment was that it didn’t shed any light on Lewis’… unique predicament. The book was written from the human perspective and was completely biased.

Another one of those stifled whimpers came from Arthur and he jerked, the hand on the table curling into a disjointed fist and then relaxing. The table top was littered with crumpled napkins and the straw covers from the waters that frequented these parts. Lewis set the book atop a stack beside Vivi’s laptop, and began picking up the little pieces of paper and gathered them on his side of the table. After a while, Lewis stretched out and let his feet hover on the seat across from him, weightless, and he began to crinkle the straw bits into pea sized balls; or, marble sized if you were a person of average height. Arthur had always seemed very short on his own.

Once Lewis had a satisfactory collection, he began – or attempted – to balance the little arsenal of pellets on Arthur’s spiked hair tips. That wasn’t so difficult. Arthur made groggy snore sounds and tucked his face deeper into the side of his shoulder, as per usual, the sounds became little whining mewls. Lewis tore the covering off the straw that was meant for him, and used its pieces to form a little pyramid right beside Arthur’s hand. He was going to balance the coffee spoon on Arthur’s wristband and fill the scoop side with more paper pieces, but Arthur gurgled something and jerked. Lewis casually set the spoon aside and leaned far over in his seat. Arthur muttered gibberish, none of the slurred syllables Lewis had the slightest clue of.

“Art. Hey. Not here.” Lewis reached over Arthur’s head and shook the smaller frame by the back of his vest. “C’mon,” he says, “Open your eyes.” Arthur actually convulses a little as he’s raising his head, as if he’s being hit with a blunt object over and over. Arthur raised his head sideways and opens his eyes blearily, focusing on the person now across from him.

The reaction is something Lewis isn’t prepared for. Arthur slings his arms out, or arm, and thrusts Lewis’ hand away awkwardly. “Hisus— Yais!” Arthur sputtered and slumped back sideways, nearly clear out of his seat. One of the half empty cups tumbles over and rolls along the table edge, spilling water over a mess of singed napkins. Lewis moved his hands to clean the mess but stops himself, as Arthur fumbles around in his seat evidently disoriented. “Oh man… what are you doing?” Arthur pulls his hand to his face and digs his palm at the bridge of his brow, his clipped sleeve swivels uselessly along the backseat of the booth seeking fulfillment. “Where? Where?”

Lewis set his arms before him, over the books, and checked the table where the water had spilt. He brushed at his shirt sleeve, a little sizzle of cinder puffed off and extinguished on the open air. “Bad dream?” Lewis ventured.

Arthur was coughing, and trying to speak. He glanced around the bare back room of the diner, someone from the doorway had looked over in response to the erratic movements. A bunch of these little… paper balls fell out of his hair. Arthur shoved himself upright, internally thankful he had fallen on his good side. “I don’t remember,” he answered. Once in a comfortable position, he brushed the remainder of the pellets out of his hair. “It really… I thought I would’ve….” He turned his face up to Lewis. “Where’d Vivi go?” Slouching sideways, he saw that Mystery was not under the table either. He might’ve been able to surmise that, had he first taken into stock Lewis legs beside him on the seat. He scooted away.

“She and Mystery went out for a bit,” Lewis surmised, with a slight flick of his hand. He moved his fingers to the ascot and was trying to smooth it or remove a crease in his shirt collar, plucked up and bent over the shirt vest. If one watched carefully, the subtle flaw in Lewis’ illusion could be glimpsed. The cloth was almost too white, pristine, there were no visible weaving fibers but that on its own was hard to tell. It was hard to explain what Arthur decided he saw, but clothing couldn’t be a ghost. They had been talking all day about memories. “She didn’t actually say where.”

Arthur tilts his head down, and murmurs, “I-I see.” His hand resting on the table before him opens, then relaxes into a loose fist. His eyes trail to the small puddle of water on the table, and Arthur takes a burnt napkin and blots up what he can. “She’s not very discreet, huh?”

Lewis chuckled. “Nope.” He moved one of the open notebooks aside, as the water hurried to escape absorption. While Arthur was cleaning the table, sort of, Lewis began organizing the stacks of books and collecting up the loose bits of trash into one cup. Lewis waited until Arthur had poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and had a sip. “The possession.” Arthur paused as he was lowering the cup from his face, the hot steam burning his lips. He gazed through the mist and raised his thick brows, to those dark sunglasses staring back.

“I-I’m not ready for this,” Arthur said. He shook his head, or tried. His movement became stiff, muscles locked.

“This is important for you to hear,” Lewis replied.

“No, this isn’t a good time.” Arthur set the mug down and curled his hand around it. “Later. Much later, yes? Don’t make me do this now.”

Lewis adjusted his voice and leaned forward. He set his hands on the table. “I was weakened,” he hummed. Oddly, his voice had a subtle tremor in it, or a drumming. “It wouldn’t have worked, unless you were willing.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Arthur mumbled. He wrapped his arm across his chest and gripped the side of his neck. He fought off the burning in his chest, the dull pain in his skull that he promised himself had vanished overnight. “You… don’t know,” he took another shaky breath, “what this means to me.”

Lewis paused. Arthur shuddered and gripped his shoulder tighter. “Look, I’m trying to tell you. That’s…” Lewis stops and tugs his arms back towards himself. “Arthur, look at me. Try and hear me—”

“DON’T say that.” Arthur shoved himself back into the uncomfortable seat cushion and pulled his arm up, his only arm, up to hold the back of his shoulder. He focused on the coffee mug and the frail little wisps of white, twirling inside the rim of the mug. “I don’t blame you.”

The sounds of the kitchen came in through from the doorway, dishes hosed out by scorching water, the distant drone of voices from a far off world. Lewis set a hand to the edge of a book and picked at the loose pages. On either side of him bright ember flurries sputter out, waved away by his free hand. “I didn’t want this.” He stopped and tilted his head up, as their waiter skipped back into the room.

“Sorry to drop by,” she paused, and looked Lewis’ way. “Just checking to see if you needed anything?” She had another tray pinned behind her back, and a few empty glasses pinned in the other hand.

“Yes,” Arthur said. He relaxed a tad and twists to her, arm loosening from its vice grip on his shoulder. “Can I get, do you have fried mushrooms?”

“We… have sautéed mushrooms,” she offered. She gave the two another once over, her expression conflicted. “Hey. Are you guys doing okay?” Lewis could only nod. Was she really digging him or something? All day she had hardly given Vivi or Arthur a second look. Lewis looked behind him to the blank wall.

“No. I mean, no mushrooms,” Arthur sputtered. He brought his hand to his brow and took a deep breath, and another. Steady, slow; one one-thousand, two one-thousand. “Do you make fajitas?”

She nods, and places her eyes on Arthur. “We do. We have chicken, beef, and shrimp. You can get a full dish—”

“No-no,” Arthur said, and shook his head. He braced his arm across his chest so he could set it on the table beside him, and keep himself from pitching forward. “Just a water. A water and a Sierra Mist.”

“Arthur,” Lewis spoke, gently. The light above their table flickered and flashed.

“S-some steamed veggies,” Arthur stammered, coughed. He was trembling from each hack as he pressed his face into his shoulder. “You can do steamed veggies?” Keep breathing, don’t think. Calm, steady.

The waitress backed away, but nodded. “I can speak to the chef. Steamed veggies and a water.”

“And a soda,” Arthur groaned, as he bowed his head forward. “That’s right. Yeah, thanks.” He pulled his legs around to angle them off the side of the seat, and placed more weight onto his arm.

Lewis waited until the waiter was out of the doorway. “You shou—”

“I need some fresh air,” Arthur utters, as he stands. His voice is jittery, and it takes him a painful few tries to urge himself to stand on his two legs without the tables support. “It’s still daylight.” He wasn’t actually sure, he couldn’t look up. Lewis isn’t aware he’s giving Arthur any sort of look, until Arthur looks his way and frowns. Arthur reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tinfoil packet, some of its cells empty. “I got this, I got it under control. If you could just stop.”

Lewis leans away and clasps his hands together. “I really am not the one you should be worrying about,” he rattles.

“I know!” Arthur counted the little capsules left, before he pocketed his gum. “This… it’s been helping. I’ll see you in a bit.” And he leaves.

Beautiful. Spectacular. It couldn’t have gone better. Lewis looked to the laptop across from him, facing the empty seat of the booth. That was something to look at, but he was irritated. No secret, no hidden agenda. His eyes gleamed a little brighter, and he began a systematic mission to locate each little pellet and burn them to ash. One, two, five, eight.

The light flashed for its final time, as Lewis held up a hand. With a red spark the bulb _popped_ and no more betrayed his true nature. Eleven, thirteen, twenty. He was taking new recruitments, and scorching the crumpled spherical shapes on his palm. Each time a little more of the flesh faded and flacked away in ember peels, revealing ebony and bone. He crushed the ash in his palm until there was nothing but dust; dust so fine it settled over the tables top in a fine velvety blanket. One more page.

When he swivels his head up, he has to take a double take. Here comes Vivi, with a look of utmost… why is she looking at him like that? Behind her is Arthur, sullen; trailing them is Mystery. She marches through the doorway into the room, and Lewis sees that her hands are bunched up beneath the collar of her scarf. Arthur makes a motion with his hand, he can’t do much but poke at his own chest. Lewis begins to fear Vivi has uncovered some mystic way to maim the nonphysical form of a ghost.

Oh? Oh! Lewis turns his skull down, his sunglasses clatter onto the table and he can understand what it is that Vivi has sworn her agitation upon. He’s disappointed, and internally wounded, but better they find him like this now than someone else stumble upon him.

When she’s near the table, Vivi snaps. “Lewis! What happened?” With Lewis sitting and Vivi standing, they’re the same height. Almost.

“I lost focus,” Lewis crackled. He was shuffling the books aside on the table, and had a notebook in one hand as he tried to fan off the ash. Mystery’s paws scratched at the table, slick with soot, as the dog tries to raise himself to inspect the damage. “Well, Arthur walked away!”

“Too soon,” Arthur gagged. “I am not.” He broke off and began wheezing fits. Probably irritated by the dust kicked up. “Fix it. You can’t be seen like that.”

“And why not?” Lewis challenged. Vivi turned away to check around, no one in the other room had happened to look in. “What is so offensive about my appearance?”

“Damnit Lew, if you—” Vivi bite her tongue. Mystery was yapping at her, the dog had spun from the table and faced one of the outer diners as the waitress walked past. Vivi cursed and swung back, she snatched the notebook from Lewis’ hand and held it up. The notebook unfolded, loose pages skim over the table as they swoop out in descent. “Would you? For me?”

Lewis had already shuffled away, smacking into the tight confines of the table as he recoiled his feet. “I need a mirror. I need something.”

Arthur squeezed into the booth across from Lewis and took up the orphaned tinted sunglasses. “Here, look at this,” Arthur said. He turned the shades surface to face Lewis, and let the other take them. “Any reflective surface works, right?”

Lewis didn’t reply. “It helps if you’re not watching,” he said, instead. Lewis raised his other hand and pinched the glossy lens between his thumb and forefinger. Arthur curled up against Vivi’s backpack, and moved the laptop screen to face him. Arthur pulls his hand back and finds his skin brushed thick with a gray shade.

“Is everything all right over here?” the waitress posed. As she neared Vivi she tries to lean over and see beyond the open notebook. “’Cause, I thought I saw something strange.”

“I know what you mean,” Lewis’ voice was coming off its scratchy tinge, but it was coming back. He fixed his sunglasses in place, and leaned over the backside of the neighboring booth to see the waiter. “Can we, by any chance, see our check?”

The waiter stared at him as she moved away, and began to leave. She cast a few more looks over her shoulder before she was out the doorway and into the main dining room.

Lewis leaned back onto his seat. He raised his head when Vivi took the edge of the seat beside him, and pointed a finger to his sleeve. “It’s okay. That wasn’t too bad,” she said. “Art? Can you cover the tab, and I’ll pay you back later?”

Arthur wasn’t looking at her, but he nodded. Perched on the seat with him was Mystery, and Arthur had a hand resting on the dog’s dark mane. “Don’t worry about it,” Arthur said. He had found something on the computer screen to distract himself with, for the time. “I’ll pack up then.”

“I’ll help you, there’s no hurry.” Vivi fixed her glasses. She tells herself nothing would have happened, it would have all worked out. Really. “It’s getting late, anyway. Will you carry some of these books back to the van?”

Lewis agreed. Only because she asked and he couldn’t say no. He managed to clean up the table a little better, and organize their gear before the waitress returned. When Arthur made it out to the van in the strip malls parking lot a little later, Lewis cringed inwardly. Arthur came with two Styrofoam drinks balanced upon a carryout box, of what he reminded Lewis was steamed vegetables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where I live we have Purple Stuff. But who doesn't like fruit sodas? As for the MS gang, I think they'd pretty much drink anything if it was full of sugar or something. Traveling around would make it tricky to have a drink preference and they'd get a chance to try all these different region special beverages.


	30. Chapter 30

**Eviction**

 

The laptop sat on the dining room table and the ear muffs connected to its audio port rest on the table, while Arthur leaned over the side scanning through a bar of audio waves. “Okay,” he said. Arthur picked up the headphones and held them toward Mrs. Hirstein. “Listen to this, and tell me what it sounds like.” Brea gave the headphones a brief look, before she accepted them and raised one of the earmuffs to her head.

Beside the furthest of the windows that faced the backyard, Vivi glanced over to where Brea sat. Arthur worked one handed to select the segment of highlighted audio and played it on repeat, at one point he tweaked the audio to clear out some of the echo; he mentioned something about the volume being highest. Through the duration of the sound loop, Brea voiced nothing of her observations and simply sat stern faced. Disinterested, Vivi turned and looked out across the backyard, saturated by the rolling night. Very little of the moons crescent glimmer breached the heavy cloud cover, and already Vivi could feel the diving temperature piercing the glass pane.

“It sounds like some kind of music,” Brea states. Vivi could hear Arthur shift his footing, before he began coughing into the crook of his arm. “You’re not catching, are you?”

“No. Sorry, no rest for the weary,” Arthur muttered, and cleared his throat. “It’s music. Do you know what kind?”

“No,” Brea answered.

Arthur kept prodding, seeking an answer that was distilled from possible deceit. What time did the family go to bed? Did all televisions and radios get turned off as per request? Beatrice was forthcoming enough with her answers, and began to lose her patience with them.

“I know where it’s from,” Arthur went on. “But to clarify, none of your kids own video games? No handhelds?”

“For the last time,” Brea growled. She dropped her palms onto the table’s bare surface. “No. My kids are not allowed to play vid games, and besides, my husband and I hold strict control over their money. They are not allowed to make purchases without our permission.” That alone wasn’t convincing, but it was enough for the recordings authenticity.

“What was the music from? Vivi inquired. She’d never gotten to hear through the audios.

Arthur kind of smirked, and waved the folded headphones in her direction. “Poke’mon battle theme. I’m not sure, but I can give you the release date later. No guarantee it’s a lead.”

“And what is this research for?” Brea pried. She was watching the audio loop, the faint trill of its tune repeated obnoxiously through the headphones.

“Our team also investigates a locations history,” Vivi answered, as she approached the table. “And correlate the connection between an area and the specific spectral activity that manifests. Sometimes it helps us understand why a place is haunted.” Brea had no further questions regarding the homes haunted status, but she appreciated all data that did confirm the paranormal experiences.

Once the sum of evidence disclosure was given, Arthur closed out the last of the audio documents and unhooked the headphones. “I think that’s about it, then,” he said, as he leaned back and popped his spine. “Unless, Vivi? Was there anything else you could think of?”

Vivi shook her head, and scowled. “Those horrible pictures were all I could get.”

Brea scooted her seat aside, as Arthur hunched over again and tapped away for the pictures that had been clipped to the desktop. He kind of wished Vivi would keep better track of her photos in the files, they always managed to startle him when he booted up the laptop in the dark. “Still looks like a shadow to me,” Arthur pondered. He was on the fence on whether or not it should be used, the shape was almost too vague.

“It looks like some kind of phantasm, all right,” Brea concluded. “You’ve both confirmed this?” She indicated a finger to either Arthur, then Vivi.

Vivi stepped around the table, and moved behind Brea enough for a clear view of the computer’s screen. “That’s our belief,” she began, cautiously. Vivi pushed her glasses up a little more, though they were already pressing into her eyelashes and very uncomfortable. “We have your account, and we’re more than capable in our capacity to debunk ‘supernatural’ claims.” Vivi quoted with her fingers. Arthur lingered nearby, tugging on his goatee mechanically. Vivi almost thought he’d removed the wrong arm with how stiff his movement had become as of late.

“Yes, of course. I’ve read the release form,” Brea went on, without a hitch. She waved in Vivi’s general direction, then pointed to the screen of the laptop. “But you’ll be able to help us with this?” Not a moment had passed when the question slipped from her lips, and Brea snatched her hands to her as if burned. The entire table trembled under the harsh drum that slowly subsided, the very resonance identical to something loud and heavy being slammed onto the tabletops surface. “Did you… did you get that?” she stammered.

Arthur was still recoiling, tipped far back on his heel as one arm pin wheeled at his side. He couldn’t salvage his balance and dropped hard on his butt. “Ow… damnit.” Vivi had already grabbing him by the under arms and tried heaving him upright. “Not helping. Not helping!” he yelped. Vivi set him back down and returned to the shocked Brea.

Beatrice had launched herself backwards from the table, knocking her chair aside in the process, and stared at the unassuming dining room furniture. “I felt that! See-see,” she yammered on. “Dangerous! I don’t feel safe in this house anymore!”

With a sigh, Vivi slipped her arms behind the small of her back and looked down to Arthur.

 

__

“Was that you?” Vivi barked. She paused beside the door that led into the guestroom long enough to allow Arthur through, then flung the door shut with all the force she could muster. The door whammed into its frame and the whole room shook. Lewis, suspended near the light of the low ceiling, crashed to the carpeted floor with a solid sounding _thump_. Mystery shot up to his four legs and peered over the side of the bed, where Lewis had fallen from view. “And you’re floating? If they catch you here, we will be in so much trouble! What were you doing?”

“You,” Lewis shot back. He raised himself from the floor and clenched his fists at his sides. “I’m tryin’ to conserve energy, and I stopped paying attention to where I was being.”

Vivi marched right up to the taller ghost. “And what? It somehow costs you less energy to float around, than to sit still for an hour? One job, Lewis, you had—”

Lewis’ heaved his fists up to his chest and grabbed at his shirt— check that, suit collar. “It costs energy just to be!” Vivi winced, but refused to lower her gaze from the burning eye sockets. Lewis motioned one arm around her shoulder towards the closed door. “And who’s making sure those people doesn’t come down here and hear this? Ah, ah, Vivi dear. Don’t call the kettle black.”

Arthur strolled by the two, face to cracking face, and waved a thumb back over his shoulder. “I rigged one of our talkies to the steps,” he mentioned. Arthur gave Lewis a wide birth as he shuffled around to the front end of the bed, and slung off the equipment pack. “They mostly poke around when we go upstairs. No worries. Ugh! Mystery. C’mon, we’re supposed to be workin.’” Mystery clambered over to Arthur and stuffed his head up under Arthur’s arm.

Vivi sighed, and drew back from Lewis. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she said. Some of the tension subsided, but Lewis’ eyes remained tinged by scarlet. “We still got problems. Nearly an hour of docile information and Mrs. Hershey hasn’t taken the hint.”

“What hint?” Lewis prompted. “They’re, or her mindset, is narrow-minded. We’ve dealt with that sort before.” The idea was more undesirable when he had to spell it out, though their options were obvious. Or so he thought.

“Yeah?” Vivi brushed by Lewis and perched on the side of bed by Arthur, he already had the laptop out of the backpack and booted up. “This is different from a freelance investigations. This is different, right?” She briefly swept her gaze Arthur’s way, his focus transfixed by the laptop on his lap but Arthur nodded to the question. “After we investigate an assigned case, our job is then to elect a suitable resolution based on our information, and amend the client’s plea.” As she spoke, Vivi pressed her palms together and directed her compressed hands to the projected highlights of the explanation. “Not always, but sometimes we take the course of lesser evil.”

Arthur paused as he handed over the laptop. “Uh, Vi. That’s not how the—”

“You know what I mean,” she groused. She reached over the laptop and gave Mystery’s ears a rub, then took the offered computer. “Technically speaking, our job is done. We got enough material to BS our way through a report, barely. We can leave and get home smack dab on the deadline.”

“I would much prefer that,” Arthur admits. While Mystery is distracted by Vivi’s rapid tapping, Arthur scoots back and lies down. “That would be the best thing right now.” He groaned as Vivi patted the side of his hip.

“One problem,” she resumed. “Our funding for this case will be low if the Hershey’s give us a poor evaluation, for the failure to comply with their demands.”

Lewis leaned over the mattress and turned his head to Vivi. “Okay?” He snapped his hands from the mattress, upon realizing that they had reverted to black and bone. Worry about it later, he simply flicked his hand as if he could sling off the bleached patches in his knuckles. “But since when do you care about a score? We. When did that become a thing?”

Sighing, Arthur turned over onto his side and faced the wall. “It’s not just a score,” he said. He fought to keep his dry hacking at bay, and resumed. “It’s a consultation process. It determines how much an investigation is worth, and what we qualify for in our next assignment. We lose a percentage of the total when we fail to return at the designated time.” He pulled the pillow over to him and shifted it under his side, so he wouldn’t be lying directly on his damaged arm.

“I’d rather not do that,” Vivi added. “But we’re not leaving until we figure something out.” She moved the laptop aside and shut her eyes. Mystery whined and shuffled over a bit more, he set his chin on her leg. Outside, the wind strummed its gentle pattern over the outer eaves of the home in haunting twitters. Somewhere inside the house, its counterpart the heater whirred to life and the warm air thrummed through the network of vents.

For a long time Vivi was silent, and Lewis waited for a word. She was eerily serene, and this did not put the dapper ghost to ease. He raised a hand to cover the mild palpitation of the locket at his chest. “Lew. Is there something you can do?” she says, at last. “They don’t belong here, not with these people.”

The light in the ceiling flickered, but no outer countenance on Lewis part revealed his inner rumination. “I didn’t sign on as a counselor.”

“We can go back with our collected data, submit a report…” Vivi says. “None of that helps either family when we’re gone.” She slips out from under Mystery’s resting head and stands before Lewis. Mystery’s chin smacks the mattress, and he grumbles as he licks his lips and readjusts himself. “I don’t know what more we can do. Even if we – note this is the bottom of the keg option – but if we are forced to do an expulsion, there is no guarantee the entire family will depart at the same time. Far from it.” Behind her, Mystery whimpered. “If an expulsion is the only accepted option by the Hirstein’s, then I would want to be the one to do it. It wouldn’t be right to leave someone else responsible for this, someone that might be less sympathetic with these spirits.”

“It’s a crime of ethereal syntax,” Lewis rumbled. Practically growled. Vivi took a step back as Lewis seemed to loom over her. “Whoever they are— That family! They don’t need our sympathy, what they need is each other.” Arthur flipped himself over on the bed and scooted back, nearly clear off the mattresses edge. Mystery pushed himself backwards on his front legs and tumbled back into Arthur’s knees. “They died together, and they have stayed together all this time. That’s the way it should be, and no one should control that.”

“And no one will!” Vivi shoved her hands against Lewis shoulders and sort of pushed the taller figure backwards. “Do you ever listen, you stupid ghost? I don’t want this! But whatever the outcome, we won’t abandon that family! I know damn well they don’t deserve that.”

For a full five minutes there’s utter silence, but for the intrusive breeze whistling outside, and the steady thrumming of the gilded locket Lewis carried. Every few seconds Lewis would glance toward the windows, then, back to Vivi. She stood there back straight as a board, her eyes staring into the dark depths of Lewis’ eye sockets; her face stern and unwavering from the contesting glowers.

“Lew,” Arthur said, quietly. His back was pressed to the wall, Mystery clutched to his chest, and Mystery was hugging the pillow. “I feel you and all, honest, but—” Arthur hesitates when those eyes, those hot embers, snap to him. “You’re kind of siding with the ghosts? You know that?”

The light above hummed as it dimmed, nearly darkened completely. Lewis’ eyes glittered in the deepening shade, but the instant the bulb flashed back to life Lewis was gone.

“Lewis!” Vivi stepped forward and put her arms out and moved them around, seeking a hold or something to indicate the ghost was still present. She felt nothing. The temperature about the air fell by degrees and the faint tinge of smoke hovered. Vivi let her arms slump and clutched at the ends of her sweater.

Arthur lightly scanned over the room, looked up, and shut his eyes. He exhaled the breath he had been holding with a dry wheeze. When he finally released Mystery, the dog waddled away to sit on the edge of the bed. Mystery would turn to check Arthur, but kept returning his steady eyes to Vivi. Arthur shuffles forward to the equipment pack and digs around inside.

“You don’t think,” Arthur begins. He paused as he drags out the spare walkie-talkie from within, and confirms that it is on. “You don’t think he’d… do something?”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t.” Vivi takes a step back, pivots, and moves over to sit on the edge of the bed beside Mystery. “You were asking, weren’t you? Not seeking some sort of rhetorical assurance?” She set her hand on Mystery’s head, and the little bob of a tail wiggled.

A small chortle bubbled up in Arthur. Despite its warmth, it was cut by an edge if unease. “No. I was kind of— never mind.” He raised his hand up to his neck but stopped short. He knitted his fist into his vest collar and let his arm hang. “No. He probably went for a walk, or something. Heh, dead weight.”

“What?” Vivi squeaked, as she jerked to Arthur.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and waved his arm. Mystery whined at him, and Arthur stretched out a foot to poke at the dark patch of fur on Mystery’s back. Arthur raised his eyes, when Vivi hummed his way.

“Was he… I can’t remember,” Vivi murmured, and raised a hand to her forehead. “Was he always so brash?” She looked back to Arthur. In his eyes she could easily read the turmoil that knotted in his thoughts. Answers he swore on his life would lay in confidentiality.

 

__

 

The house stood silent, its open halls frozen by dark waves of shadows, the steady tickle of the young timber’s eerie creak becomes lost within its bleak echoes. It was the silence of predawn, a stillness of life resetting, of a world sinking through the transfiguring gloom toward the dawn’s invigorating touch.

Eyes scald the seamless cloak of the perpetual midnight. Or what were once eyes. Twin pools of a black abyss consume the upstart shades, scorching through them with red and magenta quivering blaze. A low tenor follows the streaming glimmer of those eyes as their shadow drifts up the steps. The carpeted stairs are polite and never betrayed his presence. He saw no living, no gleam of life. How long had he been pacing these halls up and down, down and up? He lost track of time when he wandered. He knew now how long his dormancy had endured, but nonetheless it felt too long. Though, it could not compare with that time. The in-between. The buoyancy, the lingering, the waiting and amalgamating into… something. What was he, anymore?

At his shoulder loitered an open door. A forlorn and drab radiance slipped through the several small windows above the mirrors hanging on the walls, accenting the smooth sides of countertop and slick tiled walls. Small windows. He doesn’t think the outer scenery would trouble him, not while he had four snug walls surrounding him, but he didn’t like to tempt his curiosity. Lately, it too had the potential to scald him. If he could manage, he would avoid a glimpse.

The perceivable sheen, or lack of, did not improve Lewis appearance in the slightest. He crept toward the silvery patch on the wall, and frowned at himself. The twisted memory of a person long dried up, forgotten. He had done that, it was him. “ _If only. If only_ ,” he reminds. “If only… I could hold my focus.” He didn’t want the mirror to reveal him. He needed the mirror to remember him. He pressed his hands to either side of the reflective frame and focused. The mirror would lie for him, and it would know no different.

The suit was no longer inky black flaked by iridescence, white sleeves covered his arms and a dark vest coated his torso. Pale hands, in contrast to the heavy midnight, withdrew from the shimmering silver. Lewis checked himself once more, tugged at his sleeves, felt the solidity in the undertow of his refined illusion. Good. He was getting better at this. It felt like cheating using a mirror all the time, but who cared? It worked.

It worked.

Lewis lowered his hands beside him and clenched his fists. He couldn’t help but despise the assignment, loath whoever had sent them here. The school? He remembered. How could he not? That was the first time, he remembered that moment so well. It was when, and Mystery had shown him. How long had it been, since he had been lost in his own fire? Forever. Time was the mortal man’s shackle, a construct to measure the remaining length until final conclusion.

He raised a hand to his face and touched the space of skin beneath his open eye socket. “Don’t… blame me.” Lewis pressed his hand over his eyes. “You can’t blame me. If only I could, I—” A sound came at his back, and he whirled around to meet it.

Another pair of eyes froze with his. Lewis could identify the silhouette easily, a girl. “Vivi?”

The voice gave a little peep and the figure darted away, into the shrouds of the hall. Lewis swept from the doorway soundlessly. He could have moved faster, but he knew better and advanced with extreme care. He hadn’t caught a clear image of who that was, a tenant of the house no doubt, but of which group? Those eyes would’ve been a giveaway. He couldn’t be sure yet, the light was at his back and she had been afraid.

Light foots falls padded in rapid succession to the furthest end of the hall. A lull of sound proceeded, followed by the mild whisper of a door. Lewis swayed in the hall, suspended in midair near the steps. For the entire evening he had haunted around aimlessly, up until the Hirstein’s had gradually disappeared one by one into their rooms. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen Mystery, Arthur, or even Vivi roam around since their… dispute. This meant nothing, unless he had missed something equivocal in his wandering. It hadn’t helped his mood, but he felt somewhat lighter after expelling some of his spectral plethora.

He ventured to the end of the hall and found the stairs to the third floor, and two doors; one to what he suspected was a closet and the other to the entertainment room. Lewis tugged at his ascot as he bided time, covered his options. He stepped over to the door at his side and gingerly pushed it open.

“Hello,” he said. Voice sounded all right, some of its fuzziness smoothed out. Lewis rapped on the side of the doorframe he now stood in, and spoke to the closet. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Can we, I dunno, talk? You don’t have to open the door.” No answer, but that was actually a good sign. He waited, glanced back down the hall. He could’ve been wrong, or maybe she had just vanished.

Then, a timid voice lifted from behind the door. “Who’re you?” she stuttered. “What do you want?”

Lewis raised his hand, as if the person on the other side of the wood barrier could see his passive gesture. “Nothing, nothing. I swear. I’m as confused as you are, maybe more. No promise though.”

A little sniffle. He was unsure if she would respond back. He half expected the door to creak open when the doorknob rattled. “Do you know… where my family has gone?”

Lewis kept silent. How to answer that? She was definitely one of the residents he’d seen the night before, but her family? “I’m not sure,” he murmurs. “I’ll, why don’t we try and find them? Or, you could stay here. Would you prefer that?” He regarded his next words. “You can wait in your room. I don’t know how long this’ll take.” The door clicked again, but this time the wood panel creaked open inch by inch. On the elevated steps behind the door was a window, the light was blotted out as the shorter figure shuffled out to stare up at him.

“I haven’t seen my family all day,” she whispered.

Lewis took a step back. “Well, tell me where you last saw them,” he whispered. “Wait in your room, and I’ll send them your way when I find them.”

“No,” she said, and stepped out from the small room, its interior filled with a large space and some shelves tucked with blankets. “I’ll go with you. There’s someone… someone else in my room. Everything’s wrong, I’m scared and… I really-really don’t want to be alone.” She put her hands to her forehead and shuddered.

“Listen, we’ll figure something out.” Lewis knelt down, a ways from her. “I’ll help you find them. Let’s begin with your name.”

“Charlene,” she said.

Lewis stood and stepped out of the entertainment room. He gestured away from the closet down the hall beside them with one arm, his other arm motioned towards the steps. Lewis looked to the young teen. “Charlene? That’s a cool name.” She indicated the steps, but moved back as Lewis stepped by.

“My family calls me Charlie,” she offered. Charlie shut the closet door and followed Lewis’ progress at a safe distance. “We live here, the four of us – I mean five. Me, my mom, sister, and my dumb brother. Dad, he’s not here right now.”

“Okay.” Lewis reflected over the night before. The father was somewhere on a business trip, and the older boy was Robbi, but he had not seen Jezebel yet; only Arthur had seen her. This confirmed his suspicion that the family was together.

Slowly, he ascended the steps without a sound. He tried to glance out the window upon passing, but the very sight of the ground stretching out, way down yonder— he had to turn away. “Did they mention going anywhere?” The question was possibly the most worthless he could conjure, but it was reflexive and he needed a distraction. The pause that followed was drawn out, endless.

“No,” Charlie answered. “I don’t recall. Mom would’ve left a note, she always does.”

Upon reaching the third floor Lewis gave the hall a short glimpse over, and moved away as Charlie joined him. “Everything’s different,” she murmured again. “It wasn’t like this, this morning. When I woke… there was someone else.”

Lewis cued in. “Someone in blue?”

“She wasn’t the only one,” Charlie added. She looked away towards a door across from them. “Are you with her?” she asked, as she moved towards that door. Lewis followed.

“She scared you,” he presumed. “I’m sorry, she’s got a lot on her mind and… Let’s find your family first, and maybe I can explain things better.”

The room was some sort of craft room, full of glittering pieces of cut and twisted aluminum. Tall laundry baskets lined one wall, filled with what Lewis decided were soda cans. As they moved through the room, the wires hanging from the walls peppered and constructed with bright pieces of smoothed glass, chatter and chime at their passing.

“This used to be my dad’s office,” Charlie spoke. “But now it’s filled with all this junk. It was cool at first, but now the house is gone. I don’t know what this place is, it’s not my home.” She led Lewis to another door, a closet, which she refused to enter. “We heard people talking in here. For a while it was fun, but then they started saying things that kind of reminded me of what she said too.” She gestured the open door.

“My friend,” Lewis clarified. He winced at the simple term ‘friend.’ “Can you tell me what they were talking about?” He moved into the room and gave the stacks of shelves a look over. Beside the doorframe across from him was a light switch. It wasn’t necessary but he went ahead and flipped the light on, for some much needed atmosphere. Maybe Charlie needed it too, Lewis reasoned.

“They just asked stupid questions,” she began. “’Why are you here?’ ‘Knock three times.’ ‘What’s your name?’” Charlie paused, and shuddered. Lewis kept his back to her as he roamed over the shelves, each filled with tools and more supplies. “I don’t want to say anymore.”

Lewis considered, running through the familiar questionnaire they had on hand for investigations. “You went along with it, though?” To one side of the wall was a stack of boxes, a few plastic baggies sticking out of the open tops were filled with colorful beads. Near them, on the floor lay a flashlight.

“Yeah,” Charlie admits. She dawdled just beyond the threshold, leaning over enough to see where the tall man was kneeling. “Why not? For a while it was funny listening to them freak out.” That same pensive lull came in their exchange. “That didn’t last long.”

It was classified as a board game, stocked in the section of stores alongside Scrabble or Operation. Never had Lewis felt much of an interest for the item, and neither did Vivi. Something about the Ouija board seemed crude, impersonal. He could sympathize with Vivi’s plight, “The lesser evil.” He couldn’t bring himself to touch it, though he was uncertain whether it was due to some obscure law that held him bound, or if it was simply a personal preference. The thing seemed sort of sinister lingering here, left behind, discarded once the novelty of it was gone.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Charlie continued, to herself. “I knew it was a bad idea— What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Lewis answered. He shuffled over a bit and raised a fist above the dull printed picture of the board’s face. The fake artist’s rendition of a withered and worn table, with the replica of old timey sun and moon placed in their respective corners. He raised his other hand over the locket at his chest, and opened the adjacent palm over the board. “Como esta llama espiritual extingue, también lo hace la unión a esta materia física etérea. Desenlazar los que vagó aquí.” He ignored Charlie’s questions, and focused only on the fuchsia gleaming flame as it settled on the center of the board. The ember sparked out leaving a ring of black singe in the board’s center.

“What did you do?”

Lewis swooped up and clicked off the light. “Nothing. Let’s keep looking. Where did you go when you left here?”

Charlie moved away, hurried out of Lewis’ path as he shooed her on ahead. “I tried to go downstairs, but there were people. I didn’t recognize the voices. Like, have you ever gone into a room and someone you’ve never heard before is talking in the next room, but you have no idea who—” As they step from the doorway, Charlie goes stiff and stares across the hall towards a group of people clumped in front of a closet door. “Mom!”

The woman from the previous evening shot up and sprint over, catching her younger daughter in her arms as they raced to meet. “Oh baby. Sweety,” she whimpered, and began stroking Charlie’s hair back as she they held each other tightly. “Sweetie. Sugar. We— I don’t know what to say. I just don’t.”

Lewis kept his distance and observed. He looked past the two holding onto each other, and set his gaze on the boy and taller girl seated beside the furthest wall. Robbi, that was his name. He had one arm around the girls shoulder, and she held herself back beside a thin door, hands clasped over her head.

“Where were you?” Charlie sniffled. “Where! I was lost, there were people.” Her mother cut in:

“We were here, sweetheart. We tried finding you, you didn’t answer our calls. We were so worried,” the mother cooed. She rocked gently on her feet, her eyes glitter as she stares off into a distant whirl of black possibilities.

“I didn’t say anything.” Lewis again directed his attention to the older girl, and boy. “I should have. It was so stupid.” Jezebel dropped her face to her knees. “I stay up all night. I would’ve known. God, so stupid.”

The mother tightened her arms around Charlie’s head, but Charlie pushed her away and stepped back. “What? What is she saying? Don’t shake your head at me. Just tell me. I want to know what’s going on.”

With a sigh, an actual sigh, the mother nodded. She guides Charlie to the wall with her siblings and pulls Charlie down by the hands to sit. For a long time they are silent, and Lewis is unsure if he should be around for this. “You remember that night? You were so badly sick?” the mother begins, voice strained. “And I told you… I didn’t know, sweetie. But… you remember what I said?” Charlie glances down. If she nods it can’t be seen.

“It was a twenty-four hour bug,” Charlie says, as if insisting. As if stating this very obvious fact would make it the truth. This time, she does lower her head. “I went to school the next day.” Robbi leaned away from Jezebel and set a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You made me.”

“No sweetheart. No, I didn’t,” the mother murmured, and again set her hand on Charlie’s head. “You know I wouldn’t.”

They fall into a reserved silence, aggrieved by their reservations, their forfeited time. Diluted words were exchanged by mother and eldest. “I checked the meter,” the mother would say.

“I put on more blankets,” Jezebel murmured. “And then I went back to sleep.”

“I didn’t check the second floor,” mother said. “I checked the third floor, but not the second. Completely forgot.” She was chewing on her thumb, staring off into that distant piece of space she courted. “It was still under warranty.” Then, shockingly she turned to Lewis. “I was going to have it replaced. First thing come morning. It was too late to call the gas company. I was going to do that. I was.”

Lewis shrugged off his stupor and moved forward. “Things don’t always work out.” The mother shook her head. He sits down a ways from the huddled family and crosses his legs. Jezebel and Robbi scoot in closer to either side of their mother, Robbi glanced up at Lewis but otherwise didn’t utter a sound. “None… of you suffered,” Lewis went on. He hated saying this, trying to make optimism spring freely. It couldn’t, and his nature insisted it shouldn’t. “You went to sleep.”

“And never woke up,” Robbi concluded, voice rough. “Kept on dreaming.”

“You… could put it that way,” Lewis conceded. That was all it had been, a long dormant dream. They knew nothing else, thrived in an illusion brought by the assumption of a long and fruitful life. How long might it have endured if they were left to their own devices? Who had the right to take such a fragile gift away? Their world had been torn apart.

Robbi tucked his legs up to his chest and rested his cheek on his knee. “Is dad dead? Do you think?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know,” the mother hummed. She reached her hand up and smoothed out Robbi’s hair. “I know nothing.” She looks to Lewis and after a prolonged scrutiny, she squinted her eyes at their guest. “What do we do? I thought that… there was a light or something? Is it me? Am I stopping whatever’s supposed to happen? I don’t know what to do. Why? Why are you here?”

Lewis entwined his fingers and set his hands on his lap. She stared at him, the mother did, struggling for comprehension, seeking answers he didn’t have. “I think you know more than you realize,” he offered. “Who told you?” The mother looked Jezebel’s way, but her eldest didn’t respond. “You can’t turn back the clock.”

“I know that,” the mother hissed. She sighed and brought her hands back to lay in her lap. “Did we… miss our train? Are we trapped here? Do you even know?”

“To be honest,” Lewis says. “I don’t. I haven’t found an answer that makes sense. Sometimes, I—” He stopped talking and took up a bit of time, to think. The kids were talking to each other.

“I had a boyfriend,” Jezebel said.

“You knew him for a week,” Robbi retorted.

“We were gonna graduation together,” Jezebel insisted. Robbi was about to make another comment, but his mother set a hand on his head again. It didn’t stop him from speaking, but he did cease and simply let his head slump beside the wall.

“You’re not confined here,” Lewis said. Urged. “You waited here, because that was the only routine you knew. You can leave.”

“Leave?” the mother edged. She leaned away from her teens, staring at him, eyes glittering but not aflame, not that same unearthly light. This was something else. “How do you mean?”

“How ‘bout I ask, why wouldn’t you?” The mother stares. “You can walk right out. Keep walking. The world didn’t stopping turning. You might find peace, closure, forgiveness. Who knows? You’re free, you know. Illusions trapped you here, but they’re gone now.” He didn’t know if this was true or not, did it matter? Lingering in past memories was not the answer. Lewis slanted his brows, and hoped the mother read his restricted expression. “Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. Then, the mother leans back beside the closet door. “That doesn’t seem right. Or, it doesn’t seem fair to my kids.” Lewis tilts his head down and drummed his fingers over his knee.

The conversation dove from existence and theoretical future, to illustrations of a long ago forgotten lifestyle. Lewis wasn’t certain how they had ambled into the topic, but they came to be there and it wasn’t unenjoyable. The mother reminisced about her decade of a life with her husband, and the biggest argument they managed to resolve right smack dab after their wedding night.

“We made an agreement,” the mother continued, voice straight and serious. Lewis smiled. She was good with storytelling and held a firm matter-of-fact voice. “He let me wear pants. That might now seem like much to you, young man, but it was a big deal for me.”

“I’m not laughing,” Lewis sniggered, palms raised in mock surrender. He wore a huge smirk that screamed otherwise. “He shouldn’t have made a big deal about it in the first place. Who cares if a girl wears pants?”

“Exactly!” the mother praised. “Someday, you’re gonna make someone very happy.”

Lewis’ smile waned, and he nodded a tad. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose someday, maybe.”

When her first daughter was born, the mother quit her job to become full time mom. When they had the home built brand new they were barely keeping up with the debt, but her husband earned enough on his wage alone that they managed by in comfort.

“He lost all of us,” the mother said, at one point. Her wistful gaze had since returned to that place in the void, obscured by Lewis’ perception. “My word. Life isn’t fair.”

Lewis felt a flash of irritation, but now wasn’t the time. “No. It isn’t,” he said. He however talked about the people he traveled with, explained partially why his group, and what his friend – whom the family had met – was doing in their home. He kept out of the Hirstein district. Instead, Lewis revealed that a family had lost him, and that he had friends – the same people he traveled with – that he still missed.

A few of the old cases did stick out to Lewis, which he related as he recalled each. Some he found he could recall better than others, and a few he did have to end prematurely if the conclusion was a bit foggy. There was still so much he did remember.

The aspect of untamed exploration and investigation, the unknown, the mystery hunting, the late-late nights that his group dedicated themselves to, beyond exhaustion, and driving many endless nights out of their way to find the next big destination. Vivi always there with her encouraging words, a butchered phrase, coaxing them to beyond the great beyond if necessary. He might’ve talked a little more about Vivi than he meant to, but only because her gusto was the driving force of the Mystery Skulls crew. Her ambition and fire was one to rival his own.

Time was going somewhere, Lewis wasn’t certain where or if it was still around. The mother recounted a strange paranormal experience her family had, around the time her grandmother was passing. As the recount ended, Jezebel left her siblings on the other side of the hall. They had relocated, when the stories shared between their mother and the guest had lost interest.

Where they sat Robbi and Charlie spoke in low voices and made few gestures with their hands. The shell shock had worn off little by little, but the younger siblings would cease their conversation and give long dozy stares to the dark walls that surrounded them, as if only now coming to realize they were in a house. Aside from the revelations they shared, nothing had changed. The family had awoken from a lie, and in a way Lewis envied them. Their illusion as a collected whole was so immaculate, it bade by their involuntary nuance.

Or, not as perfect as Lewis wanted to believe, but this was death after all. Or, a stage of it. Acceptance. His old adversary rears its ugly head. Lewis rubs at his eyes, though his eye sockets refuse to betray his sorrow.

“Mom,” Jezebel said, as she neared the two. She stooped to sit beside her mother at the closet and wall, her legs straightened out with wrists looped over her middle. “We’ve been talking for a bit. Rob and Char wanna go for a little walk.”

“A walk?” the mother echoes. She turns to give Lewis a long, pained look with a shadow of an expression he didn’t fully gather. “A walk, to where?”

“I’m not sure,” Jezebel murmured. She stretched her fingers out and touched the tips together over her knees. “We just need to get out and look around.”

The mother nodded slowly at first, her head bobbing quicker until she was in full agreement. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.” As she stood, she looked Lewis’ way as if seeking guidance, or foresight. “It’s really been a delight talking to you.” She held out her hand as Lewis moved to his feet, a little more smoothly than she had. Lewis took the offered hand.

“Oh, I know,” he chirped. “I’m glad we got the chance to talk. I’m sorry if we caused you any trouble.” His voice trailed off, when the mother didn’t return the hand shaking motion. She only shook her head and before Lewis can inquire, she has her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she says. “I can’t… I don’t know how to express my gratitude. I don’t know how much you’ll understand, but… you have helped us. I wanted you to know that. You have helped. And I— I… don’t even know your name.”

“ _I’m afraid.”_

Lewis swayed a bit, startled but not stalled by the realization. It only occurred to him then that none of them had given formal introductions. He was really bad at that. “I didn’t get your name, either,” he said.

“Diana,” she said. “Diana Kamden. My family and I, we once lived in this house.” Diana put an arm up as Jezebel came over, and Jezebel put her arms around Lewis and her mother. Robbi and Charlie jointly grabbed their older sister and mother, and clung to them in some utter desperation.

Lewis didn’t know what to say, how to respond to this. He could only think of his own mother and father, and his little sisters. Always so proud of him. All waiting, always eager when he finally came home; clustered about him – safety, warmth, love. Family. “I’m sorry,” he managed. It hadn’t reached him until then, the repercussions his actions would have on these lost spirits. But this was right. This was what they needed. “All the best to you.” His voice broke. “Don’t get lost.”

When Lewis raises his head he finds that his arms are empty, and he is the only occupant of the dark open hall. There is no light aside from the thin veil that scuttles in from the open door of a bathroom, and down the steps leading to the lower floor. Though he knows the home to be occupied by living residents, the walls felt desolate and the air around him thin. Lewis turns his gaze down to his hands, and is again disappointed.

 

 

__

“ _I don’t even know your name._ ”

 

 

The light in the low ceiling had been left on. Forgotten, perhaps. It was the unspoken rule that Arthur always slept better with a light on. It hadn’t always been that way, but while they were not paying bills for the electric it could be allowed.

With a pulse and brief flare of white hot intensity, the bulb was snuffed out and the room was overtaken by the swirling shadows. Pale illumination weaved its way down and through the cloud cover and softly falling snow clumps, thin sheets of crystallized frost edged the perimeter of the window panes in the corner of the room. As if sensing the impending plummet in temperature, somewhere deep in the home a heater kicked into gear and sighed warm air through the metallic vents.

Though little of the small room is sketched out by the meager glow, there is enough sheen to betray the dark shape gliding across the room. It blots out the pale refractions in the iced windows as it moves, and only stops when its shadow contours over the inert bodies on the couch.

Arthur coughs minutely, and tightens his arm a little more around the dog snuggled against his chest. The inky hue thickens across the couch and its occupants, and Arthur stirs in his sleep and chokes on the frigid air, as the vapor twists its way deep into his lungs. The jarring movements drag Mystery from his slumber and the dogs crimson eyes blaze behind his spectacles. He fully recognizes the silhouette looming over them as Lewis, if the gilded locket on the broad chest was not clue enough.

With eyes glistening in their dark pits, Lewis brought a finger close to his lips. In response to the soothing gesture, Mystery bares his teeth along the edge of his snout and let out a low, throaty snarl. Lewis is unperturbed, and without a word pulls a blanket up over both person and hound. Mystery’s snarls don’t subside immediately, even after the cover is tucked around Arthur’s shoulders. After a few seconds, Mystery does relent some and shuffles around until he can comfortably set his chin right beneath Arthur’s neck. He gives a final long winded growl as Lewis turns his back.

The bed is occupied by books and notebooks – many left open – a laptop, and one overworked paranormal sleuth. Vivi is curled up on her side and partially hugging the computer around its keyboard, the laptops screen is dark, probably in sleep mode. A bit of reorganizing and shuffling later, the books and papers are relocated to the floor beside one of the backpacks. The laptop on the other hand was very warm, and sleepy Vivi was impossible to reason with, but after some gentle prodding she did relinquish her hold on the computer, and Lewis could save it from certain destruction.

Lewis shut the laptop and set it aside, then shifted back on his knees to face Vivi. He folded his arms over the mattress and set his chin down on his arms. While Vivi had struggled to keep her heat source, her glasses had fallen off and Lewis had set them on the laptop. She always looked different when the glasses came off, the vibrant red added something to her face. It clashed with the blue and soft beige of her skin, like berries and crème. There wasn’t much difference, but it wasn’t the same. Vivi wasn’t the same.

A low rumble, something akin to wild thunder brooding on the distant horizon, resonated within Lewis. “You’re different,” he crooned. For a short span he listened to the muffled rhythm of the locket; its presence irredeemable, its contents inimitable. “I forgot Vi. Time does strange things, and it’s… been purgatorial. I forgot, and you were alone. I left you when I promised.…” His voice barely held itself together, and it came thick while peppered by low gaps of crackling. Lewis paused and locked onto his bearings. Once he pooled together enough control, he raised one hand to brush away the few bent clumps of hair from Vivi’s face. “I’ve been… elsewhere.” He drew his hand away as Vivi burbled something in her sleep, and tightened her arms up under her neck. “People are supposed to change,” Lewis rattled, voice barely audible over Vivi’s even breathing. “But not like this. If I’d known… it wasn’t— I didn’t anticipate ever seeing you again. Never. It should‘ve been different.”

Somewhere in Vivi’s dream, she whimpered and cringes. Curious, Lewis raised his head a pinch, but Vivi had already relaxed. Lewis moved his hand to stroke her cheek, gently, and began his familiar somber warble of a tune, that almost sounded like a voice he once had.


	31. Chapter 31

**Restoration**

 

The vines catch at his ankles as he charges full tilt, sharp branches slap at his brow. He can’t fend them all from his skin, yet there are no trees surrounding him, just branches. Hundreds of branches, low hanging tree limbs, gnarled and sharp twigs starved of leaves – all clutter his vision. Candle light flashed faster and faster along high wall paper, shades of magenta and fuchsia crashing against his eyes. Red, blue, red, blue – his bare feet slap at the carpeted floor, the panicked rhythm hastens the wild pitch of his heart until he feels like his chest is ready to explode. Somewhere out there a mild thumping dips into a steady pace, while his legs whirl under him. Soon, he’s aware that thumping sound is getting closer and closer, no matter how fast his legs beat at the floor under him.

 

__

Arthur snapped his eyes open and stares at the other side of the wall, through the opaque plastic window of the small stand in shower. He tries to make sense of the blurry wall, struggles with the truth of the wall rather his hazy memory from an elsewhere. The door was open and the cold air kneaded into his skin, helped clear his mind. It was stale air, not icy, not depressing and icy air. The walls closed around him were as bleached and sterile as the surface of the moon. He shuddered and tightened his arm around his legs and tried to bar in the little bit of warmth bubbled against his stiff sides.

The bathroom that connected to the guest bedroom was functional and comfortable. It had two doors, one that accessed the guest room and the other door across from it which opened into the front hall of the home. It had the bare essentials, a toilet and sink on one side of the room, and a small shower in the fourth corner. Arthur currently sat in the dry pan of the shower, staring at the bulbous shapes morphing through the distorted plastic. He hated doing anything in a haunted home, especially sleeping. His eyes shut again, it felt so good sometimes to just close your eyes and listen to the empty air around your head.

His eyes popped open to the gentle rapping on the door. A groggy voice blundered through the wood panel that separated him from the guest room. “Art?” It was Vivi, voice muffled by drowsiness and door. “You in there?”

“Mm. Yeah,” Arthur called back. “I’ll be out in a sec.” He wobbled something bad as he pushed himself up by one arm, and staggered out of the small shower closet stiffly. He stepped over to the single standing sink and turned on the water. He put away the portable medical kit, and managed to dig out a clean shirt without much problem getting it by the abundance of used ointment packets and bandage wrappers. He slipped the clean shirt on carefully, shut off the water, and collected up the remainder of his gear before unlocking the door. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he choked, as he pushed the door open a crack.

“It’s fine,” Vivi yawned. She stretched her arms behind her head and scratched at her frazzled head, glasses gone and still dressed for yesterday. “I was just getting worried, and I needed to get in an hour ago.”

As Arthur stepped out of the way, he finally noted the windows in the furthest corner of the room. Bright sunlight poured through, golden and fluffy through the mild tint of fog and clouds. It had to be early, shy of noon, the fog hadn’t burned off yet. The last time he looked outside, it was very dark.

The door shut, and Arthur was left to gather his bearings. He coughed a bit on the warm air, it was probably time for another pill. Later then, he didn’t want to fool with his bag and risk drawing attention to himself.

Since Arthur’s disappearance, Mystery had relocated himself from what was once warm blankets on the couch, to the warm bed and was on his back snoring with his paws bent over his chest. Arthur stared at the happily snoozing dog bundled in his warm nest. Arthur sighed. “I could really go for coffee.” Arthur set his bag down and flopped sideways onto the couch. He curled up on his good side and slipped the blanket over his lower half. “ _Lewis isn’t back yet,_ ” he noted. At least, as far as he could tell.

It wouldn’t take Vivi long to get spruced up and ready to tackle the days task. A blessing and a… downer. Five more minutes. Two more seconds. If he just rest his eyes, he’d be good.

Mystery was up. He didn’t see when the dog had moved to his feet, but he was standing up on the bed and staring at the side of the room, fully focused on the door. Arthur worked to get himself pushed up and over to see where Mystery’s attention was. Arthur wasn’t alert enough to anticipate Lewis’ sudden appearance.

There was no Lewis. However, Mystery hopped off the bed and padded over to the door, head down and ears high. “Wassup?” Arthur mumbled. Mystery arfed, as he neared the door. “Whatever you say, buddy.” Arthur spun over onto his back—

The door flew open and a pair of white bulbous bodies withered in, moaning and bellowing their arms. They screamed, “Leave our house!” and “Be gone trespassers!” as they raced at Arthur. Mystery kicked back on his rears legs, fell over, his claws scrabbled at the carpet until he found traction and bolted for the space under the bed. “You will REGRET!”

“WOOOOO!”

“Holy—” Arthur threw himself backwards, crawled over the side of the couch and away from the invading sheets. As he tried to stand upright, his feet got tangled up in the blanket and his body went straight to the floor. “Ow….”

“Ooh,” one of the ghosts groaned, wincing. It pried off the white sheet revealing Tyler’s matted hair. “Hey, you okay?”

“We’re ghosts!” The other ghost declared, waving its arms. “OOoooohhhhh!” She stopped when Tyler slapped her in the stomach. “Ow! I’m telling mom.”

Arthur rolled over and sat up. “Geez, what is wrong with you two?” he spat. Whatever fatigue had flattened his brain on the hot pavement, it was gone, obliterated. “You’d give someone a heart attack.”

“Were we scary?” Savannah asked. Her hair stood up in all directions when she slid the sheet off. “Your eyes went all white, it was crazy!”

At least he was clothed. Arthur raised an arm to his side, where he had fallen. He must’ve hit his bad nerve, that whole side of his ribs was buzzing. “I could call you a few things,” he muttered under his breath. All three turned their heads up when the bathroom door  **WHAMMED**  against the wall.

Vivi emerged from the mist in the door, hair soaked and slicked to her skull, damp cloths clinging to her body. Whatever the teens said about scary, it paled in comparison to the look in Vivi’s eyes. Arthur felt himself shrinking into himself, and he was far from the target of her fury this time.

“What in FLYING FUCKS are you two doing in OUR ROOM!” The house shook on its foundation around her voice. Elephants stampeded, waves crashed, a certain dog in a room enjoyed hamburgers for the rest of its life. “Do YOU have ANY MANNERS? DON’T ANSWER THAT!” Savanah shut her mouth.

“This is our house!” Tyler rebuts. He rolled the sheet up against his chest, clearly unsettled but much too proud (or stupid) to admit anything redeeming. “And you should be paying us rent or something while you’re here.” Tyler glanced around, and turns his attention back to his sister but she clearly didn’t want to get involved in this.

Vivi was marching forward, head down, eyes flashing. Arthur threw himself into her path. “No, Vi, Vi!” he stammered. “I wasn’t hurt! They’re just kids!” He tries to grab her by the wrist or snag her shoulder, but this is difficult to do when you have one less arm, and he’s backing up struggling to snap her attention onto him. “VIV-VI!”

“The doors gone.” Savanah had looked back and inspiration struck. The door that was once open, was now not there at all. “Um….”

Vivi’s hostile advance had ceased, and Arthur hung on her shaking. It was getting harder to see. Now the windows had ceased to be, there were no longer exits present at all in the room. The apprehension thickened, the once soft pastel colors of the surrounding walls crack and darken, the harsh introverted coloration spreads down and down, burning away pale hues. Was it a trick of perception, the loss of light, or the tones of red and purple that were quickly gaining area, but the whole room seemed to be getting larger? The walls extending but minutely, as the light faded. Vivi helped Arthur stay on his feet, though he was moving away from the lush red carpet as it sizzled under foot; as if there was fire snapping at his feet.

Mystery wriggled out from under the bed and hopped up onto the mattress. The dog’s gaze followed the gradual progress of the carpet and walls until the two alterations met at the edge of the wall. Mystery twisted around and gave Vivi his attention, one ear bent down at a loss.

“Lew?” Vivi whispered. “Is this you?” Savanah and Tyler ambled around whining, shooting startled eyes along the walls as the room contorted around them. “You’re going too far with this. Do you hear me? You have to stop.” She whips around when Arthur leaps onto the couch, one of the few areas of the room unaltered.

“He’s gonna kill me!” Arthur squealed. He heaved the blanket from the floor up over his head and buried down into the cushions. Mystery wasn’t far behind Arthur’s escape, and hops up into the thin wedge between the chairs arm and Arthur’s quivering body. “He’s promised! He swore, oh god! This is it! Dead! I’m dead- I’m dead!” Mystery looped his paws over Arthur’s back and huddled down, he looked to Vivi.

“Pull yourself together!” Vivi stooped beside Arthur and put an arm over a clear space on his spine. Arthur shook something bad and tensed at her touch, whimpering incomprehensive words muffled by the blanket tangled about him. “Pull yourself together! Art! Nothing’s happened so far! Listen to me! You—” All at once what little light had remained throughout the rooms metamorphosis dimmed, though blessedly not total darkness. Vivi could still see Arthur and Mystery clearly, she could see across the room the distant walls. “Lewis.”

A panicked shriek comes from the other side as Savanah and Tyler threw themselves to the wall, where once stood a strong and proud door. “It was here!” Tyler yelped. He slapped his palms to the door and felt around. “We came from here!”

“Where is it? Mom! Mom!” Savanah screamed. They hit the wall, screamed for aid, begged whatever force listened. “We didn’t mean anything! It was just a game!”

“She made me do it,” Tyler bawled. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He twisted around to a low hissing-pop at his back, and shield his eyes from a flash of light. “S-Savanah.” His sister ceased pawing at the wall, and turned as Tyler tugged her arm.

On the floor lay the Ouija board with four candles burning by each corner, a vibrant flame that bounced and swayed, beckoning fuchsia light. The glossy board with artistic rendition of sun and moon did nothing, but sat there on the foreign carpet and bathed in the otherworldly light. In the center of the Ouija board was a black mare that oddly resembled a burn.

This… it was beginning to make sense to Vivi, but she felt grossly uninformed. She wanted to scream at Lewis to cease this nonsense, it had gone too far. But she didn’t. She could almost sense his presence strongly in the room pacing around, smell the fine kindling of his hot smoke as he waited. If there was anything she had come to learn on her own of Lewis, it was that he was ruthlessly patient.

As if to answer her doubts over the nature of the scene, Vivi felt something brush into her leg. She looked down. One of the tool bags, a few of the incense sticks poked out from the top flap oddly, tips aflame. Mystery gave a low sound, a hum, as Vivi reached down and plucked out the burning sticks. She blew out the flames and kept the wicks held in front of her, the sweet scented fumes trail off as she shifts her footing on the carpet.

Somewhere at the wall Tyler and Savanah had huddled down and sniffled into their arms.  Vivi began to approach the teens slowly, it was difficult to see and the carpet had begun to resemble the ripped rug of a certain foyer.  The darkness that had been sewn into the walls of the room now constricted its prisoners, wound down and deep; barely recoiled from the four candles that huddled around the blemished Ouija board. When Vivi turned and checked her progress from the couch, she could see neither Arthur or the rooms furnishings, nor were Mystery’s soft coos audible.

With a breath from the sweet aroma of incense sticks, Vivi leans over the board and fans the smoke. “Spirit,” she commands. “Be gone.”

Rather vanquish the hostility the Ouija board begins to spis between the candles. The board whirls so fast it becomes a blurred disk, but the flames upon the wicks never sway at its dictation. Okay.

“You two played with this,” she accuses. “This is yours.”

“No, no,” Tyler pleads. He tries to grab ahold of his sister, but Savanah just shoves him away and holds herself. “I promise. It’s… realy, it’s her’s.”

“Shut up,” Savanah hissed.

The Ouija board spins faster and faster. If it were not held down by the force that commanded it, it might’ve flown off into the great beyond that swelled around them. Still, Tyler and Savanah continue to deny every seeing it, buying it, all the way down to denying knowledge of what the cursed thing actually was. The more they beseeched and whined, the faster the board twirled on the floor; the longer the Ouija board spun, the darkness all around them thickened and loomed; closing in, tightening over the bright flames of the candles, until neither of the three could see anything but the individual candle wicks between them. Savanah and Tyler clung to the wall paper behind them unwilling to risk seeking safety in the alien light, even when they could no longer see who it was that sat beside them. Until finally—

“Yes!” Savanah barked. “YES! I got it from a friend! I didn’t know! We just wanted to know if our house— We WANTED a haunted house!”

And like that the Ouija board halts mid gyration, the darkness recedes, but not completely. The nearest walls become visible, but not the rest of the room.

Vivi’s hair was starting to dry and little lone strands begin to stick up whichever way they wanted. She was cold too, though the air felt very warm. Her clothing had been practically soaked through. “Okay,” she said. “What needs to be done is… a closing prayer! Have either of you done a closing prayer before?” The unanimous mumble was ‘huh?’ “That’s a problem,” she continues, shaking her head. Arthur was coughing, choking. She felt better knowing he was out there somewhere, at least she knew where he was more or less. “A closing prayer sort of frees spirits from the board, and also protects those that use it. Only those apart of the session can close a session, it won’t work unless all members are present.” She gave them a critical eye and raised the incense sticks near her face. “Did anyone else help you with your session?” Savanah shook her head.

“You sure? This is kind of important.”

Again, she pushed Tyler away. “No. Just us,” she said.

Vivi nods. She lowers herself to the floor before the board, the incense held beside her. “Come closer. You have to help me with this, or none of us will leave.” Neither of the two teens would leave the wall. “You can stay there for as long as you like, but there won’t be a way out till you fix this.” She held out a stick of incense. “This will… protect you.” She glanced aside and tried not to roll her eyes.

Reluctantly, Savanah shuffled forward, Tyler followed her lead. The two faced the board where it had stopped, the images and symbols facing them. Vivi handed them each a stick of incense.

Savanah sniffed. “Is that blueberry?”

“Uh-huh. It purifies the air, and it’s good for a séance,” Vivi chirped. At a thought, she turns and calls into the dark. “Art? You wanna help?” A muffled whine came, and a separate bark from Mystery. “I’ll take that as a no.”

When the two siblings lowered to their knees, Vivi began fanning the remaining sticks she held over the Ouija board. “Now, we’ll thank the spirit for sharing their energy with us,” Vivi explained. “You’ll repeat after me: ‘Thank you for sharing this sacred time with me.’” Tyler and Savanah followed without a hitch, and aimlessly trailed their sticks above the now placid board, in a similar manner to that of Vivi’s antics. “‘We appreciate the flow of energy we have experienced, and we will use it for our highest good.’” When they finished with that portion of the prayer, Vivi indicated the candles at the Ouija board’s corner. “Start blowing the candles out—”

“Blowing the candles out,” Tyler blurted. Savanah nudged him in the side and he winced.

“It will be fine,” Vivi assured. “Do it slowly, not fast. Be respectful.” She waited as the two teens took a candle each to blow out. “Say now: ‘As we blow out these candles,’” Savanah and Tyler begin to repeat, between snuffing out the candle light. The bright halo around their epicenter dims but doesn’t black out the transparent illumination completely. “‘We close the sacred space, and ask that your protection surrounds us wherever we go today.’” Vivi dips her head. “Thank you two, that was very good.”

“It’s dark,” Tyler’s voice whimpered. There was a _pop_ sound, and Tyler was groaning again.

“Is not, the lights coming back on,” Savanah said. And Vivi saw it was true, the air and walls about them was brightening and Vivi could see Savanah pointing up. “Look! The light’s working again.”

The light in the low ceiling gradually brightened, revealing a room restored, a small comfortable room with beige carpet and soft pastel walls. And doors.

Once the two saw that the door was returned, they tore away from the abandoned Ouija board and smoking candles on the floor. The two fought to reach the doorknob, and spent more time fighting over the door that it took a full minute before one of them, Vivi wasn’t sure who precisely, had ripped the door wide open and they tumbled out into the hall. Their rapid footfalls clambered down the hall and soon the room was again subdued and quiet, and preferable.

Coughing, Arthur pokes his head up from the blanket and looked around. “Vi. Vi. You okay?” She doesn’t answer Arthur, she’s watching where the two had barraged out from.

As the door swung back towards its frame, Lewis is revealed leaning back into the wall behind the panel. He reached a hand over to shut the entry the rest of the way, and holds up his hands as Vivi jumps to her feet. “Don’t get those near me,” he says.

Vivi was about to argue, but forfeits that and just dumps the incense on the Ouija board. “Did you do a session with them, without my permission?” she pried, as she… she tries to fix her damp pants. It was a hopeless measure. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be giving those two good vibes for the rest of the day.”

Lewis smirked and shook his head. “No. It wasn’t my session you helped them close.” He raised his arms anticipating an embrace as Vivi hurries at him, but instead sets her hands over his.

“I gather you have some things you need to tell us later,” she says. “But first things first, we still don’t have a solution for our current problems. We don’t know the first thing about these spirits, and scaring those two did not help.” She stopped talking, when Lewis set a finger gently to her lips.

“Mi dulce arándano,” Lewis hummed. “You saved those kids, and in the process got rid of those ‘spirits.’”

Wait, no, that wasn’t what she was trying to do. Vivi took a step back from Lewis, conflicted by the whole ordeal and the repercussions undoubtedly unleashed. She hadn’t done anything, hadn’t tried. Not yet, she didn’t. She gazed at him and squinted her eyes. “Lew? What did you do?”

Lewis frowns, and motions a hand to the neglected Ouija board behind Vivi. “A candle for each spirit,” is all he’d say.

 

 

__

The hall clicked with the sharp footfalls of Beatrice Hirstein’s swift, calculated strides. The words of her young teens boiled her blood, fueled the contorted fury that navigated her course of action. She was a rational woman but she had limits, and they would NOT be tested.

When she reached the door of the guest room she brought her quick stride to an abrupt halt and reached out, her knuckles tapped gently on the door. “Excuse me in there,” her voice projected. She paused and listened, there was no response, no voices, but she could hear the muffled movement behind the door. “Hello! I need to speak with you!” She reached out and pounded on the door this time.

The panel heaved back from Brea’s fist and the blue manager of the investigative group stood before her. Vivi blinked at the raised fist and focused past it, to the other woman. “Er… yes? Oh, your kids.” Vivi cast a backwards glance as she stepped forward and into the hall with Brea, she jerked the door shut behind her.

“Yes, my kids!” Brea harped. She stiffened, squared her shoulders tightly as her face contorted as if struggling to compress the string of words that had backed up into her stewing rampant. She finally found her words, and spat, “WHAT happened in there? Your group is supposed to be protecting my family! Your meddling has caused nothing but trouble, and you – YOU have taken no action to remedy our plight! I am attacked in my own kitchen, we hear voices all day and all night, then THIS! What am I even paying you for?!”

Vivi had her hands up in no large effort to calm the screaming woman, she could only wait until Brea had spent her breath and was ready for some feeble explanation (if she would allow it). Once the woman had wheezed out her final sentence, Vivi offered a moment and ensured that no sudden surge of accusation would spring forth from the parched well. The children in question were nowhere in sight.

“It was an experience,” Vivi starts. Brea looked as if she was about ready to burst again. “But harmless, I… promise. The situation was under control, and dealt with accordingly.” The door popped open a crack at Vivi’s back and she twists around. The marred Ouija board is shoved through the small opening from the side, when Vivi accepts the board from the opening, the door clicks shut.

“And this here,” Vivi announced, holding the board across to Brea. “This might be the cause of your problems.”

Brea took the board and flipped it over, she spotted the burn mark on the center immediately and touched the edge of the black melted surface. “What is this?”

Vivi weaved her fingers together and raised her elbows at her sides, in a kind of shrug. “Whether you believe in it or not, these ‘game’ boards can be dangerous.” For the first time Brea noticed that Vivi was not dressed at all for the day, and her hair was very messy and stuck up in odd clumps. Vivi resumed, nonchalant. “I can’t confirm, and I doubt that your kids would admit it, but sometimes playing with tools such as this can awaken spirits from dormancy, or invite them in. Particularly, when the board is not closed properly. I assure you, Mrs. Hersh— er, Hirsetin, that we have performed our required task and your poltergeist problem has been eliminated, as per your request.”

The door again snapped open, but this time there was additional shuffling and bumbling about. Mystery dropped to his four legs and padded by the two, one of the provision bags carried in his teeth. Brea returns her attention to the door as the yellow clad figure totters out, a few bags carried in one hand, a metal arm pinned in one of the bags slung over his only feasible shoulder.

“I told you not to pack up on your own,” Vivi protested, as she brushed by Brea in pursuit of Arthur.

Arthur shrugged the straps over his shoulder as he walked. “No sweat, we didn’t nab everything. Excuse me, Mr. Hirstein.”

Coming in from his morning walk, Mr. Hirstein held the door open for Arthur and Mystery as the two slipped out. “Good afternoon,” he said to the visitors. Mr. Hirstein was not very tall, not very young, and was hardly ever present during their investigation. “Leaving already?”

“Probably?” Vivi uttered, as she and Brea caught up.

“Really?” Brea challenged. She moved over to stand (tower) beside her husband, the offending Ouija board was placed upon a bookshelf beside the large front door. “I want some proof that our home has been cleansed. Don’t you laugh at me.” Mr. Hirstein shields the side of his face with a hand as he shuts the front door behind Arthur and the dog. He had to have a chuckle at his wife once in a while.

“And I want concrete proof about the paranormal being more than smoke and mirrors,” Vivi retorts. “Our contacts will be in touch with you for a follow up within two to five weeks. There’s an emergency contact, if you absolutely cannot wait. Truthfully, I don’t think you’ll have any more problems with the house, now that this has been taken care of.” Vivi nodded towards the Ouija board behind Brea.

“This is highly unorthodox,” Brea huffed. “You can’t just abandon a family in need of your services.” Mr. Hirstein shook his head as he walked away, leaving his wife to handle the matter.

“The paranormal is anything but a perfect science,” Vivi elaborates. She wanted this done, before Arthur made efforts to load up all on his own. “The cleansing ritual was as complete as we could manage, and the spirit seems to have departed for good.” Vivi mentally rolled her eyes. “Listen, I have a small ritual you can follow that can help while we’re gone, but as you can see,” Vivi motioned her current state. “You sorta caught us at a bad time.”

At first Beatrice was reluctant to allow the exchange to end there, and was rearing up for another reason why these matters needed to be attended to, and NOW. But as Vivi pointed out, she was not ready for the day, and this in Mrs. Hirstein’s book screamed the lack of discipline these people practiced. She gave them their space, allowed them to work unimpeded, yet here they were smack dab on noon and neither of them looked ready for anything short of disappointing their parents, which wouldn’t surprise Brea. For now Beatrice was willing to let Vivi off, in favor of attending to her kids and learning more from their side of the matter.

One quick shower later and Vivi was ready to tackle summary discussion. Arthur saw her right on that task, in a hurry to get them off the hook as fast as she could manage. He was helping in the way she forbade him to, but he really needed something to do while she renewed the ancient battle with Mrs. Hirstein.

“And what if I don’t?” Brea threatened. She was at the end of the hall near the dining room doors, Vivi held out what he knew to be the clipboard with the dismissal form, and something else; not a pin.

Vivi’s voice was laced with irritation, Arthur could almost envision Lewis looming over her glaring hot holes into Mrs. Hirstein’s head. “I’ve already told you, this is standard procedure,” Vivi went on, teeth gritted. “If your problems persist, then your case will be reopened and another group can handle it. This is the extent of paranormal intervention, the same procedure would follow….” Vivi continued, saying whatever could be said to get Beatrice Hirstein to sign that damn form. Arthur could tell Vivi was insincere about most of what she was saying, and wholly relied on the account that Lewis had offered to slip them on out of this place. Lewis had seemed pretty shaken when Vivi had threatened to knock his skull clean off his shoulders, if they so much as got wind that the Hirstein’s were still having problems. However, Lewis saving grave may have been former association with the overall nature of the Hirstein’s.

Mystery followed Arthur the whole time. He frolicked through the snow on their way out to the open van, and pranced along with Arthur when he returned to the warm interior of the home. The warmth was only a temporary relief. Young Tyler had been seated on the lowest step for some time watching as Arthur and Mystery struggled in and out of the door with the few bags of supplies.

“You don’t even have a film crew,” Tyler said. Yeah, Arthur was very much ready for those long nights on the open road.

Conversation prickled forth from the dining room, most likely moved there when the setting of the current subject had. Arthur stuck his hand in his pocket as he walked, Mystery padded along beside him with a slow stride. Vivi was still at it, trying to chip through the mile deep of impervious empathy.

“Burn the sage by the food,” Vivi was saying. “It doesn’t need to be exclusive breakfast, it can even be something simple. A bowl of soup.”

“Is this all even necessary for the… process?” Beatrice sounded disgusted by the idea of leaving food out to sit for any length of time. “Won’t it draw them back?”

“That’s never happened,” Vivi said, voice flat. “It’s only meant to be a courtesy to the spirit, something about subsiding energies and offering a sort of peace. It’s a custom that’s been handed down through the centuries, and though we still don’t understand its origins it’s still practiced.” Vivi looked back as Arthur and Mystery entered the dining room, the clipboard was held behind her back as she spoke. By the dining table across from Vivi’s posture stood Brea, a plate with a sage bundle on it sat at the table’s center.

“Try leaving out a bhut jolokia,” Arthur mentioned, as he stepped through the double doors. “That’d do the tick.” Vivi gave him this vacant stare for s splint second, before she turned back to Brea. As she looked away Arthur stumbled forward, nearly falling to the floor. Mystery yelped and ducked aside, possibly making ready to duck under Arthur if he fell the whole way.

“You okay?” Vivi yelped. She sprang over to Arthur as he regained his balance, Arthur flashed his wide eyes around the room as Vivi caught him by the shoulders. “Art? Look at me.”

“Was he pushed?” Beatrice hollered, from where she stood. She hadn’t moved an inch.

Arthur gently pushed Vivi away. He raised his foot to the floor and tapped his toe behind him. “Naw. I just… old shoes.” He put his hand on his shoulder and gave Vivi a thin smile. “I’m about ready for some brunch.”

To top it all off the van wouldn’t start. The day just overall sucked.

Arthur hummed to himself as he tried to crank the engine over, yet again. It was just on the edge, he could feel it, but it just wouldn’t ignite. He slid out from the driver side and checked the cable connections on the battery in the cab, checked the cables on the spare battery that was sitting upon a dirty work towel placed on the road. Maybe it was the spare, he hadn’t tested it to see if it had power before he brought it over. He doubted it in the first place and considered just disconnecting the spare, either way, it was work but he had some hope that there would be enough charge to kick the van engine up.

Mystery hopped out of the middle seat when Arthur returned, in the back Vivi shuffled around organizing the supplies Arthur and him had dumped in. Arthur had been in too much of a hurry to do that sort of detail work, but Vivi didn’t really do it either until…. Anyway, he figured he’d be occupied with the battery for a bit. The engine ‘rrred’ at him as he tried the key again, and Arthur hummed a little louder to himself.

Branches wound their gnarled fingers up the and down the walls, the chipped wallpaper was splint over the deformed knots. The deeper he ran through the gloomy halls, the snugger the walls wound about him. It felt like the tangles of branches were closing in over his head, Arthur stooped forward as he ran in a breathless panic, seeking the smallest chip in the twilight that would deliver him from the suffocation. Heat burned up his lungs and through his chest, his eyes watered. He wanted to scream for help, call out for his friends. The only sound he could manage was a thick gurgle as he spiraled down and down.

Arthur felt his hand trembling at the steering wheel. He couldn’t feel his arm. It was a hellish sensation, too familiar. He coughed a bit on the soreness and leaned back into the car seat. The seat beside him was empty, there had been something like comfort in the vacant space. Then it was filled up with a dark shape, colors, the sudden contrast slammed into the white backdrop of the snow filled lawn. Arthur jerked in his seat and scooted away.

“Jeez, Lew,” Arthur gasped. He brought his hand to his eyes and rubbed away the spots. “I’m gonna tie a bell to you, I swear.” The radio crackled with sounds, one of the stations they had been listening to before Arthur had to shut it off. He could have changed the radio station, but that hadn’t occurred to him when they had been driving. He just wanted the noise gone.

Lewis began to say something, at least that distorted rattle had arisen like a living person taking a short breath before words came. Vivi cut him off with a sharp cry, “Did you shove him!” Lewis winced and jerked about in his seat, what little of his living appearance he had dragged on quickly rolled off like beads of water on a hot skillet. Lewis had already begun to tuck down more toward the floorboard of the van, his skull dipped into the top edge of his suit collar. As for Vivi, she towered over the seats back and glowered down her nose onto the shrinking ghost below. “You be honest with me! I won’t tolerate this!”

“Vi!” Lewis squealed. “You’re taking this the—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lewis!”

“Would you not?” Arthur snapped. He twisted around in his seat to more or less face Vivi down, or tried, for all Arthur’s crippling intimidation could manage. “I tripped, I told you! That iz what happened. What, you think I’m lying? WHY? Why don’t you believe me?” He couldn’t keep their eyes locked, Arthur had to spin away and go back at the engine. “Accidents happen,” he sputtered, as he fumbled around the steering wheels base. “And you can’t always just blame someone. Hold on, gimmie a sec.” He tried the key again, gave it a little twist of his wrist and the engine blared to life, strong and proud, a guttural snarl of fossil fuels surging through its pipes. “See! There, got it!” Arthur slung out of his seat and hurried to the vans front, nearly slipping on the ice as he went.

Vivi sighed. She watched Arthur’s shape flash out of sight beyond the raised hood of the van. Lewis remained pinned where he was at the floorboard, his dark eye sockets stare up at her imploringly. “Tell me why,” Vivi murmurs.

The faint lights in Lewis’ skull flash. “I… didn’t. He— he’ll need help with that battery.” Vivi pushed him down by his shoulder when Lewis tried to rise up, and used Lewis as leverage to swing over the bench seat.

“They’re probably watching,” she snarled. This was probably more than true. “Just stay here and out of trouble.” She aimed a hard stare and a finger back at Lewis’, as she backpedaled around the front of the van to join Arthur.

The hood cracked down, the whole van shaking with the force and Vivi talking over the sound of the engines rumble. She was grumbling about Arthur doing too much, overworking himself or something and an arm. While it was all clear Lewis pulled himself up over the backseat and lowered into the vans back. Mystery was there, paws on his ears and eyes perked up toward Lewis as the ghost settled down.

“Um…” Lewis began, skull raising an inch out of his suit collar. “I’ll just… wait over here.” Mystery didn’t question it. Simultaneously, the two look to the vans back when the doors tore open.

“You’re just gonna rest a’while and I’ll drive first! Move Mystery,” Vivi shot. She waved a hand Mystery’s way, and the dog relocated himself to corner of the van opposite to Lewis’ current occupation. “Thank you.” Vivi fumbled one handed for the floor latch imbedded in the carpet, and heaved up the hidden panel in the floor. “No! I don’t need your help. You’ve done enough helping! You’ve helped enough to cover for the next five thousand years!”

Lewis slinked back into his corner and shared a glance with Mystery. While Vivi loaded in the heavy battery, Arthur climbed up into the van on the driver side.

“I am capable of driving,” Arthur mumbled. “For the first few—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Vivi cut in. She punctuated with the slamming of the floor compartment, and the shutting of the back doors. Her voice continued, as it tracked along the side of the van towards the driver side. “I need something to get my mind of this insult to our trade, or I might just… UGH! Lemme get inside! Scoot! Scoot over!” Arthur complied, fearful of the tone in Vivi’s voice. He shut the passenger door and Vivi hauled the driver side door shut. The engine still grumbled its moody hum, and fog spewed along the side of the windshield. Vivi gave a shrill cry and beat at the steering wheel with her fists.

Lewis raised his head up and exchanged a fearful look with Arthur. Poor-poor Arthur, pinned by the passenger door, unable to work door handles when he was in a state of panic. Lewis almost felt sorry for him.

“Are… you okay?” Arthur mumbled.

“Those… PEOPLE!” Vivi fumed, still smacking at that poor steering wheel. Arthur wanted to remind her that he had barely gotten the engine started, but he wasn’t ready to become the next target of her wrath. If he remained small and helpless, Arthur would be safe. In theory, that is.

Mystery pulled himself up on his front paws and looked Arthur’s way, but the dog seemed to snicker at the scene instead.

“I take it after all that heart-to-heart you two never saw eye-to-eye?” Arthur chanced, barely above a whisper. He regretted it immediately when he spoke, and hoped Vivi didn’t hear that.

“WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE?”

She heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vivi just absolutely loses it. Arthur is doing the complete opposite of what he should be, Lewis is like... I dunno. Where'd that frightening ghost go? Mystery is the opposite of helpful in these scenarios 'cause he gets a kick out of Vivi losing it.


	32. Chapter 32

**Time Spent**

 

They had a small delay when Vivi was trying to take the main road out of town, and she had to do a complete turn around and head back in. Arthur had tried to question her decision, but Vivi was adamant about picking up that brunch. The stacks of Styrofoam cups somehow still occupied the vans cup holders beneath the radio in the dashboard, now with the addition of fresh drinks. Likewise, the middle seat was claimed by white paper bags stuffed with hotdogs and hamburgers.

Between her bitter mutterings Vivi scoffed large bites of the procured food greedily, and neither Arthur nor Lewis ever caught what she was actually saying; probably for the best. Lewis might as well have vanished from the vans back, he was practically nonexistent over the duration of the drive. Arthur on the other hand timidly nibbled at a burger and a half, over a period of an hour. Around the time they had stopped for food, Mystery hopped seats and began to accept small bits of food from Arthur, but only when the dog had approved his companions lethargic progress with eating.

Things calmed down once they had eaten and been on the road for a few hours. The tension evaporated, Vivi stopped grumbling under her breath with the ‘what I should have done’ monologues. Vivi had a tendency to drive fast, especially when she was mad. Sometimes she forgot to signal when she changed lanes, which was kind of important while driving a large van with limited visibility. Inevitability the nighttime crawled through, and Arthur had to poke Vivi and remind her to turn the headlamps on. They were nearing the glittering edge of a town and traffic was starting to pick up.

“Vi. Hey,” Arthur mumbled. Mystery slipped to the floorboard as Arthur scooted a little closer to Vivi, but he edged back on the middle seat just a bit from her. Vivi didn’t spare him a glimpse. “You want me to drive for a while? You should rest some. You’ve gone for hours nonstop.” Arthur reached out his one hand, ready to take the wheel if Vivi decided to pop into the back.

“No.” She pushed Arthur’s hand away. “Not getting around it, we need to stop, check google maps.” Arthur turned away and coughed into the sleeve of his arm. Vivi gently pat him on the back. She looked back along the horizon of the bench seat as Lewis poked his skull up, the radiating shed of his bright hairstyle reflected along the interior walls of the van like a nightlight. The sight of it in the dreary mood of the van nearly mad her laugh. “A rest,” she said. “We have a long drive, and we’ll need to be fully charged. Sound good?”

There were no disagreements, and there was no point in hiding the flagrant obvious even if she hadn’t made a conversation over the topic just yet.

The van maneuvered into the large frost coated parking lot of the motel. They had vacancies, the price was reasonable, and the kudegra of old timey motel advertisements, refrigerated air. Not that this was a highlight of travel given the time of year, it only signified the circa from where the motel had been plucked from. Arthur jumped on paying the room fee, and soon the group was unloading the minimal of their supplies.

Light flashed across the small interior walls, the room was dated but maintained accordingly. It had standard furnishings of a bed, a vanity desk with television, and a small armchair in the corner of the room beside the door.

Arthur lingered by the open door of the room as Vivi crossed the interior, following the impressive stride of Lewis. The last to enter was Mystery, the dog gave Arthur a look and slowed his steps as he turned back to the occupied entry. “Hey, I’ll be in the room next door,” Arthur said. He adjusted the strap slung over his shoulder, and nodded toward Vivi carrying the weighted battery. “You want me to hook that up in here first?” Lewis dumped the collected bags on the bed and started poking through them.

Vivi twisted about as if struck. Despite the weight of the battery she stood where she was and began to speak, but stopped. She reconsidered eyeing Arthur carefully, then frowned slightly. “If that’s what you want, I understand,” she said. “You’re sure you’ll be fine?”

“Certifiable,” Arthur chirped. He tries to ignore the ‘casually’ disguised ghost as he went through the bags lumped on the bed. Arthur stepped through the door and kept near the wall, he shrugged his shoulders towards an open socket in the wall. “Did we get the charger?” Once again Mystery was close by his side, randomly appearing like a mist. The suddenness startled Arthur briefly.

“This it?” Lewis prompted. He pulled up the beaten plastic case from among the bag pile. Without a glance Lewis handed the case to Vivi, and continued going through the overnight bags. “Can you guys find the time to pull out clothes that need a wash? No offense, but it’s kind of been a while.”

The metal arm pinned in Arthur’s backpack clunked on the floor as Arthur knelt and deposited his bag. Vivi retrieved the charger, and set it beside the battery by the plug. “Take is easy, bud.” Arthur relocated his hand to Mystery’s head when the dog leaned into his bent leg. “Just a wall between us. I’m not goin’ nowhere.”

“Art?” Vivi inquired. Arthur made a sound in his throat as he focused on the car battery, hooking up its connectors from the open converter box.

“I stuffed all my stuff in that bag there.” Arthur paused a moment to flick his hand towards a bag Lewis slid out. “Thanks mom.”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.” Lewis pulled free one of Arthur’s shirt, examined it, grimaced, and stuffed it back into the bag. He noticed that Vivi was staring at him, a little smirk tugging at the side of her face. Lewis slipped his sunglasses off, the embers in his eye sockets darted side to side within his skull. “What?”

Vivi opened her mouth ready to say something that must’ve struck her amusing, but she stopped and ducked her head down. “Never mind.”

“Now I’m curious,” Lewis admits. He sets the sunglasses on the bed among their supplies, and while he’s at it lines the bags up.

“That’s done,” Arthur says hastily. He checks the reading on the gauge and double checks the connectors on the battery. A dry cough digs at his throat as he hauls up his bag and stands, Arthur makes his way to the open door of the room. “Night. I’ll see you in the morning.” The door slammed shut, with Mystery’s white shape blurring through the wisp of the door crack. There was no return or argument, no knock of irritation.

“I don’t….” Vivi stares the way Arthur left for a moment. She heaves a breath and shook her head. “Never mind. It’s been a long day, and I didn’t handle it very well.” She stood from the battery’s side and moved over to the bed to sit on its edge. It wasn’t missed that Arthur hadn’t given which side his room was, but Vivi figured it wouldn’t be difficult finding the two come morning.

“It’s fair to be upset once in a while,” Lewis mentioned. “But it’s over and done now, trust me. I‘m only glad you didn‘t go after the Hirstein‘s like….” And he trailed off, hoping Vivi wouldn’t push for an elaboration. The whole situation didn’t settle well with him but he had to let it go, dwelling on it wouldn’t improve his mood, far from it. Lewis pretended to be distracted with moving the bags around, and managed to free some space for him to sit on the bed, closer to Vivi. He glanced around the walls, the decorative framed photos of scenery, before he brought his gaze back to Vivi and grinned. “But won’t you tell me? What made you smile?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Vivi chimed. She toed at the thin carpet with the side of her shoe. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, take a guess about what I was thinking?” She leaned back and pulled at one of the bags, maybe the one with the laptop. Lewis pushed it the rest of the way to her. She tried to get the zipper undone but it was pinned in the folds of the bags side.

“It’d be easier if you just told me,” Lewis said. “I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight trying to figure out what put that smile on your face.”

Vivi frowned and raised her head, her hands continue to fight the bag. “Lewis. You are physically incapable of sleep.”

“Haha, yes, that was a joke,” Lewis muttered, smile falling. “But thank you, thank you anyway for pointing that out, ha ha.”

“I wasn’t thinking, Lew. But y’know, you make it easy to forget.” Maybe she’d just shove the bags off onto the floor. “You pretend to be human so….” Vivi paused there, and tilted her head to look at the ghost. “For me?” She leaned on her arm towards Lewis and touched the edge of his collar, the collar that bent up over his vibrant shirt vest. He came across so formal in his casual wear? It made the smile deepen in her cheeks.

Lewis watched her hand for a bit, as he mulled over the question. She already knew the answer. “What made you smile?”

Vivi silently fixed his ascot, though it couldn’t be wrinkled. It looked… odd. Even if she had never seen the distinct style once in all her life, save for maybe… maybe that one occasion when she dragged Arthur back. So much blood, a time she moved past - a time that clutched to Arthur, immovable by word or rational. “I wanted you to tell me something,” she murmured beside his shoulder. “It’s something… I’m not sure how to say.”

“What about?” Lewis reached a hand up and touched his face. He would know if he lost his illusion but it was difficult to tell if he wasn’t paying attention. He lowered his hand to Vivi’s wrist and stalled her from fumbling with his ascot. “This isn’t something serious? Something I’m… not ready for?” He recoiled his hand when Vivi flinched at his fingers. For a moment he was lost. What had it been like? What were the sensations he felt, the emotions. Lewis set his hand on his vest and patted around, seeking numbly. Where was it?

“I kind of miss it,” Vivi cooed. Gingerly, she set a hand over Lewis’ knuckles, against his chest. “I think I got conditioned pretty quick to think that something was wrong after….” She took a deep breath. “You and me. Were we…. We were a thing?”

Lewis tensed. He tightened his hand into a fist over his chest. “Y-yeah, I think,” he fumbled. “You—”

“What do you mean, you think?” Vivi raised her brow. “Didn’t you ask?”

“No,” Lewis hummed. “We, I mean, it was what you said— Why are you bringing this up now?”

Vivi stared at him for a long time, staring into the dark pits of his eye sockets. “Lewis,” she said, and it had that same tone as the first day Vivi had said his name when Lewis had been ripped away from that ancient forest that had been his haunt. “You stole my memories of a person who had meant so much to me. Has that ever occurred to you?”

Lewis was about to reply, but his excuse was old and stale, it no longer belonged. He pulled his fist back from his chest and turned over his open palm. Vivi hesitated, but withdrew her arm. “That’s why… I never told you,” Lewis spoke. “I didn’t want to scare you. I… this is hard for me. I don’t… what was I supposed to say? I didn’t exist to you.” Lewis stood off the bed and stepped away, toward one of the framed pictures. He focused on the open plains of a farm, a fence, a small grouping of deer, a tree. He could see his reflection in the plastic cover of the picture, what little visibility he offered in his distracted state. Through his shoulder he saw Vivi’s steady eyes, peering at him from the bed. “More sometimes more, then,” he whispered.

Vivi squint her eyes behind her halved glasses as she revisited the memory, and the despairingly familiar sense of void left in the memory. “More,“ she said. Lewis spun to Vivi, his brows slanted in a quizzical fashion. “I’m pretty sure I couldn’t reject you. Ever. Is that really what you were afraid of?”

Lewis lowered his gaze, he couldn’t look her in the eye. “Rejection isn’t the thing I fear.” Though, it was a strong candidate in Lewis’ mind. Far more terrible things, hurtful things, existed and had power over him. “Words are scary. They can… never mind. Who ever plans for life?”

The room was silent, the cold night outside discouraged the late caller, from somewhere the dull drone of a heater groaned to animation with unwavering dedication. For the first time Vivi realized the air around her had gotten very warm. “But… you‘re not really sure why? Don‘t look at me like that, all smug.”

Lewis was at a loss, but he smirked anyway. Vivi was always in pursuit of the answers, but she had a habit of being ambiguous herself when it came to supplying explanation. She liked suspense and she liked saving the best for last, the finale. It was trademark Vivi’s systematic pursuit of mystery solving, or in this case the illusive lost threads.

Vivi stifles a yawn and pushes her glasses up on her face, over the hand now pressed to her eyes. “I still want to remember our old times, why we decided… you and me. Back as friends.” Lewis looked afflicted by the statement, and he shouldn’t be. Maybe Vivi didn’t know his expressions as well as she wanted to believe.

“I could try and maybe tell you a few,” Lewis offered. He reached his free hand towards her shoulder but stopped, instead he plucked up his sunglasses from the bed. “I think you and I may be in the same boat on the memory department.” He leaned away when Vivi lowered down onto the sheet covers. “Vi?”

“Mm?”

Lewis folded and unfolded his sunglasses between his palms. “When I first met you, I thought you were totally bonkers.” Vivi shook as she giggled into the blanket she hugged. “I never told you that before.”

“Oh,” she hummed, and it sounded pleasant. Distracted.

Lewis moved back from the bed and began scanning around for the bags, the ones with the clothes. “I’ll get out of you way, get started on the laundry. You’re exhausted.”

Vivi turned her head towards his face and squint an eye Lewis‘ way. “It‘s too late,” she mumbles. “Why don’t you stay for a bit? I need to do some work too, as soon as I’ve had a rest.”

Lewis hesitated. “You sure? You need more than ‘a rest.’” Vivi grumbled under her breath and turned over, pulling the side of the bed cover with her. “Take your glasses off first.” Vivi tossed her glasses onto the nearby nightstand, and pushed some of their bags aside. Lewis set a few on the floor. “You seem more than sleepy.”

“Foowee. I just need to lay my head down,” Vivi burbled, drowsy. “Wake me in an hour or something’.” Lewis sat down on the bed behind Vivi, his sunglasses joined hers on the nightstand. He turned around where he sat and raised a hand towards Vivi’s head, Vivi wasn‘t paying him any attention. “Hmm.”

“What?” Lewis drew his hand back.

“Nothing.” Vivi shook her head against the sheet spread. “Hey. What about when we first met? How did that go, it was… long ago, wasn‘t it?”

Lewis thought. Memories felt something like ripples in a pool, sometimes gentle and clear, other times a torrent of shredded slates. Or was this just his melodrama speaking? “We knew each other for a while,” he admitted. “We kinda had this rough beginning, but we promised we’d laugh about it years later.” Was it supposed to feel like rebuilding burnt bridges? That didn’t seem right.

But Vivi murmured along, “I wouldn‘t expect anything less.” Her eyes were already slipping shut. “I’m listening. I’ll listen.”

Lewis braced his arms behind him and leaned back over the bed. “Where to begin? Lemme see….” It felt oddly reminiscent of the times when he told his little sisters stories about the misadventures he had with his friends. That seemed like a forever time ago. “So, there was this girl with blue hair….”

How hard it was to revisit old childhood memories. They were not strong, possibly wounded deepest by the time spent devoted to one principle. That didn’t hurt the most, to travel back and remember youth. The grievance was resurfacing through those long ago memories, and reflecting the time spent aging with them.

 

 

__

The long halls receded perpetually into the dark distance. Sometimes wandering them gave him the sense of falling, of tumbling head over heels into the dark. He descended the steps gradually, there was no hurry to reach the bottom. More halls awaited, more walls extend beyond the broken ceiling that hung low, scraping at his scalp. Or was he floating? It had that same sensation of buoyancy, of unnatural suspension. He reached for a hold, one of the candelabras on the wall but it was just out of his reach.

Going backwards. Rising from the pit, his heels scratch at the rocky edge and skid back onto a solid surface. The air hung thick, musty, laced with minerals and smelling of soured copper. He felt sick suddenly, sick to the core of his being and buckled forward to heave, but nothing comes up. Breath was hard to grasp, he chocked and sputtered on the filthy air. Why had they ever come here? Why? He tries to stand, get on his feet and move from this terrible place, fix what was broken. It was important to move, his mind fuzzy as he tries to tell himself that he must move and he shouldn’t stop for anything. Whispers tickle the back of his head, ants crawling through his skin and nipping at his nerves. Distractions, dragging him away from his mission. He gagged and struggles to make a sound, but that anguished noise burbled forth. Everything was wrong. It all turned out wrong. He thought of a name, wanted to cry out. “ _Come back._.”

The window stands at the edge of the floor. He stumbles to it, legs of lead and mind dragging two feet behind on a heavy cord. It nagged at his brain as he fought to reach that window, the cord digging and pulling, refusing any small scrap of progress. He had to reach that window, he had to know. The ever present thumping curls in his perception, low and persistent. That damn sound! Here!

Extending below the window is the large front lawn, grass brown with fear, trees gnarled and broken yet their famished spindly limbs strive to reach toward the quarter moon framed above. The gravel path guides three colorful shapes illuminated by the fierce radiance of the lesser moon. “ _Hear me._ ”

None would remain to listen to his desperate pleas. Who in their sane mind would? The trio makes a beeline for the boxy vehicle left idle by the road, engine rumbling, engine crooning for its charges now that the influence of this place was broken.

This place.

Remorse and failure shred him, despair coiling into that cord knotted into his mind. His body was locked, only his fading sight could track the mad sprint of the group to the honey soaked vehicle. “ _Couldn’t…._ ”

The van door is practically ripped open and each of the members dives in. There’s no pause, no hitch, before the van is screaming down the road and racing into the distant night. “ _Break._ ”

Gone. It was all for nothing, all lost. Spent. He fades and falls, diving down to that place that claimed his life, dragged by that heavy cord tied to his consciousness. It was like a rusted piece of barbed wire laced to his essence, or… a bramble, rooted into his soul. The subdued tempo kept vigil as the seconds ticked away, the walls dim and the haze clouded over his reflections. A little at a time he lost more of himself, wasted away to bones and cloth. The tapping hitched and paused then started up again, its irregular spams caught him.

He jerked out of the heavy cloud and sat up a bit. The world came into blurry focus, he had to blink hard several times to clear the glue in his eyes. Arthur winced and felt sick all over again, he leaned over on his side and pressed a hand to his ribs. It shouldn’t hurt like this, what was he doing last? A nightmare. A terrible dream. It was just a terrible dream.

Like always the blanket was pinned to his side, its loss permitted a fierce shiver to roll through his muscles. Arthur’s skin felt like ice, the intolerable cold did nothing but make his whole body ache; his shoulders trembled as he kicked out his feet and levered himself up by the passenger side door. It took a great deal of effort for Arthur to coordinate his muddled limbs under his weight and shift sideways, allowing him the clearance to see into the vans gloomy back. The moon was out, enough of its light glittered over the dashboard and slithered across the vans interior walls. Arthur’s voice is rough when he grunts, the exertion almost too much for his exhausted body. He wrapped one arm over the bench seat and hung that way, while he continued to massage his eyes with his fingers and cleared away remaining crud and tears.

In a pile of blankets and sleeping bag as per usual was Vivi, arms bundled tightly over the white fur of Mystery. If not for Mystery’s shimmering pelt, whatever tangle the two had managed to get into would be lost in the poor light. The pillow Vivi always tried to rest her head on was commandeered by the dog, and held between Mystery’s wrists as he lay on his side as the hound rested comfortably with his charge.

Arthur rests his chin on his shoulder. Everything was all right, they were safe. Nightmares, he reminds himself. His eyes stung again but he fought through the pain, his regret. It would all work out, somehow. Nothing would ever be the same… true, but they would find their way. Somehow.

The knotted hair on the back of his neck stood on end. That familiar twittering clicked in the back of his mind. No… it thudded. Pounded between his eardrums like his heart was ready to erupt. When he blinked, a pair of red eyes glared at him. He hadn’t heard Mystery move. Arthur couldn’t make out the bristled fur, but he could see the spectacles on the edge of the dog’s sharp snout and those eyes burned like fire. And growling. A low sound worked deep in Mystery’s throat, primal. The soft thumping hitched and tapped. Arthur felt the blood drain from his face, it somehow made him feel very warm despite how cold the night air was. He twisted around away from the passenger door and shoved himself back from the timid rapping.

In the window of the door was a gaunt and blackened fist, curled over and tapping at the glass. Gently, it dipped down and tapped at the window – tap-tap… tap-tap, and paused. It wasn’t malicious, it wasn’t forceful, it was far from demanding, but all of this made its plea infinitely more terrifying. The hand cocked up unfurling its fingers, its palm pressed close to the thin window that separated it from Arthur and it managed to glare into the van. Or mocked. That decapitated, dead limb was able to convey emotions.

It took a despairing amount of time for Arthur to accept what he was witnessing, and at the twilight of his epiphany he began shrieking. Gut wrenching, lung bursting shrills that had the capacity to rip through the vans roof. He would know his own arm anywhere.

Arthur was fighting, kicking at the blankets and struggling to find a place to hide deep in their frigid hold. He swung his arm out and hit the hard surface beside him, he shoved his legs out in some vain attempt to repel the grotesque thing that decided to call upon him. Light burned into his retinas, it seared right through his brain and lashed at his skin. It wasn’t long before Arthur was screeching with no remorse, at the same time he had all but forgotten completely what in hells name he was screaming about. He blinked through the tears and spots pulsing in his vision; he gagged as he coughed and his lungs shook with pain, he struggled to breathe and puke in the same gasp. He clawed out at nothing, blindly seeking to repel a broken marionette clothed in putrid flesh.

A blob of white was suddenly choking him. Arthur sobbed and grabbed at a fistful of fur and shoved his heels to the bed, braced to tear it clean off. A loud whine blasted through his ears, and Arthur feebly pawed at the fuzzy shoulder pressed into his face. His breath quivered, his eyes screwed shut as he moved his only arm at the trembling body now on top of him.

“M-Mystery?” he whimpered. Another whine, softer. Arthur tries to sniffle, his lungs itch and he begins hacking into the blanket beside his face. “A… it was a dream,” he mumbled. “No. It speaks.” Tears trail through the hot creases in his eyes and a small hiccup pops in his throat.

Take it easy. I’m here for you. Mystery pressed his muzzle to Arthur’s brow and licked his tears. You’re safe. He kept his arms locked around the shaking body and set his chin on Arthur’s chest. I’ve got you.

“I don’t want it… take me.” Arthur tightened his arm around Mystery and pressed his face into the dog’s neck. “Don’t let it. I-I couldn’t help it,” Arthur sobbed. Hot tears soaked into Mystery’s fur. “I didn’t… I promise.”

You were very brave. Mystery stretched his legs out away from Arthur and molded his body over his quivering charge. Sometimes, bravery isn’t enough.

Hours pass and Arthur hadn’t calmed in the slightest. He clings to Mystery mumbling about dreams and possession, constantly thanks Mystery for always being nearby. This is how it goes until early dawn when the watery contours of blue work their way through the heavy cloth of the curtain in the window. They frosty light mingles with the gold hue of the hot lamp on the bedside table. By then, Arthur has returned to his fitful sleep. Mystery keeps his paws pinned to Arthur and keeps his attention locked on the window, and the steady glow of the sunrise. That night he doesn’t need to bare his teeth, though he wished some nights it had been that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels clumsy, I apologize. This group is full of the turmoil, they need another ghost battle to bring them closer together.


	33. Chapter 33

**Kite Tethers**

The morning progressed at a stubborn crawl. Dawn lurked somewhere beyond the distant horizon, but the tilt of the globe refused to unshackle the warm rays of first light. For that time it was peaceful, and the winter night sustained a stillness that coiled around the frosted shell of the van.

Arthur was the first to emerge from his room, with Mystery as his undesired escort. He couldn’t trust Mystery in the room alone without making a scene. A truce had to be made between them, to be fair Mystery wasn’t in such agreement but he wouldn’t fight Arthur over it. The most Mystery could do was make sure Arthur was looked after, and the dog could always start whining.

At this time of night the pre-dawn always seemed to acquire a sense of eternity, as if light had been exiled for countless years and its absence had eroded into normality. This analogy made no sense at all, but it’s what Arthur felt while he ran diagnostics on the van.

With its current mileage Arthur judged they could make it back with a quick check up, but he would feel better if he gave the vehicle its oil change and checked the antifreeze levels; given the harsh conditions of the weather they’d experienced lately. He forgot the van wouldn’t start without a jump, and the supplies needed could be bought cheap at the Super Save store that was a few miles in town. Arthur flat up gave up and decided to hit one of the gas stations down the road and paid an unreasonable amount. It was really too cold for this sort of job, but Arthur reasoned it was better getting it done while he was in the mood. The morning wouldn’t be much better, he insisted to Mystery.

 

Everything was routine. Arthur had the camping lamp along with his spare flashlight on hand as he worked, the carry out tray of his heavy tool box sat on a towel, draped over the side of the engines compartment. The streetlamps surrounding the motels open lot put out only enough light for customers to get around with, but not so much for technical work. It took no more than an hour for Arthur to drain and replace the oil, he refilled the antifreeze levels. Though Arthur dragged out the task and he shook hard enough that it was hazardous, the mechanic made certain to double-check all the wires and pipes connected around the engine.

 

Mystery stayed near the whole time, trembling alongside Arthur and keeping vigil. Once Arthur’s motions began to fall into repetition, Mystery began pawing at Arthur’s pants leg. This didn’t catch Arthur’s attention, until Mystery bit into the yellow cloth and jerked Arthur a few times.

 

The room was scarcely better than the other side of the door. Arthur shoved the door closed with his back and wobbled. He grabbed the spare prosthetic and the smaller, lighter, toolkit that was specific for his mechanical arm. Mystery hopped onto the bed and curled down into a bundle of sheets and there the dog stayed, his nose poking out from a mound of multicolored patterns as his shape quivered.

“I warned ya, bud,” Arthur wheezed. Moving from the crisp cold air to the higher temperature of the room brought on a new coughing fit in Arthur. He shouldn’t have been out there either but it was done, no unplanned stalls.

The toolbox and spare arm were placed on the bed, and Arthur sat near the heap of blankets that were mostly dog. Arthur snagged his overnight bag, pulled it to his lap and he dug around the partially opened side until he found the none-drowsy cough meds. He took a quick swig of it and set the bottle aside, then looked at the parts of the arm he had; wires hung out, a cylinder in the joint was fitted into place but not screwed in all the way. Arthur sighed and opened up the tool box.

For an undetermined length of time Arthur worked on the prosthetic, sometimes making progress with its internal mechanics and other times Arthur would lay back and shut his eyes. The reprieves were brief, and aside from untangling most of the wires and securing a side panel, no innovative progress was made. Arthur couldn’t keep himself on task long enough.

 

__

Check out time was eleven am, unless they wanted to pay for another two rooms. Their own schedule didn’t really coordinate with the motel’s staff and the early morning cleaning, but once they were on the go the urgency would subside, like it always did. Besides, they weren’t planning on any major stops until they reached their destination, and Lewis was ‘lively’ set on taking the bulk of driving on himself. That phrase… really made no sense.

 

Lewis mentally sighed to himself in his pause. How hard was it to toss out a used cup? Vivi stopped for snacks all the time. Or, didn’t she do that anymore? Maybe she didn’t do that anymore. Lewis didn’t keep track of that sort of thing himself, but maybe he should from now on, it was kind of important!

 

One of the plastic bags saved from a snack run had a few additional bags crumpled up inside it, along with some trash. So, they had the right idea, just didn’t follow through with it. Lewis shook his head as he started cramming chip bags and crushed up Styrofoam cups, into the once empty bags. For frying out loud, there was even a half-eaten candy bar under the seat. French fries were understandable, they had a tendency to jump away and roll, but a candy bar? And it was right next to his box too. Luckily, it’d been so cold.

 

Stacks of clean laundry waited on the front seat, while Lewis made room and took out the overstuffed trash bags. By then the sun was on the rise, though the ghost didn’t need light to see what he was doing. A few of his ember orbs did accompany him as he put away the loose items scattered around on the floor in the vans back, the flickering glow’s presence was more for a sense of atmosphere and comfort than anything. One of Arthur’s white shirts was beyond salvaging, but Arthur liked to hang onto old clothing like it to use as hand towels. Lewis gave the article of clothing a last grimace before tucking the shirt into a side cuvee. Last, the side of the van was a mess of blankets, shuffled around during unpacking; soon they’d be packing up all over again. Lewis folded the bedding and set it aside for now, he could then inspect the damage left behind in his… absence.

There was no hurry to wake the others, and Lewis needed to come up with some sort of excuse. After all, Vivi was going to be so sour with him. Lewis cracked a thin grin, and a little puff of magenta mist trailed from his collar. The night before Vivi had been so out of it, maybe she’d skip to forgiving him. She needed rest more than anything, and hadn’t even stirred when Lewis left—

The back doors creaked open, and Lewis wrenched around expecting an outraged Vivi perched on the bumper. His fears were unfounded, but he was no less stunned. A pair of large eyes regarded him distantly, rimmed by red, Arthur’s clothing wrinkled and his hair seemed stiffer than usual. The mechanic stared at the ghost, and the skull reflected the gaze; Lewis remained frozen where he had crouched, a backpack gripped tightly in his hands. Neither spoke or uttered a sound, but Arthur did shake visibly and his breath flashed in a feathery fog.

This stalemate broke when Mystery clambered over the bumper. The dog stood tall and straight looking from Arthur to Lewis, then barked. As if snatched from a trance Arthur turned his face away, he let his bag slump onto the new clear space of the floor. Lewis dropped the bag he had been moving, something inside clanked as it hit.

“Mornin’,” Lewis rasped. He gripped his fists a little tighter and stared at the bleached knuckles. “Sssleep?“ Lewis voice drawled out the word, hissing.

Arthur snapped his head up from his bag. Already his right arm was bent around his shoulder and thumbed at the chute catch for the trigger. “Huh?” he squeaked.

As Lewis pivoted, he made a vague gesture over his shoulder with his hand. “Well? Sleep well? I thought you were Vivi. She asked me to wake her up, I didn’t. Mystery.”

Morning. Mystery flicked his ear and moved to the opposite side of the van, he began nosing around the ice box that had been relocated to the wall opposite of the bed clutter.

“Ah,” Arthur choked, and gurgled in his throat. He bowed his head and clenched his jaw when the lock released, the all too familiar weightlessness sensation and vacancy overtook his left shoulder. “Sounds like trouble. You don’t mind, we’ll stay on the sidelines and root for you.” Mystery snorted on his side of the van, the dog raised his snout back and gave Arthur a little grin. Arthur shivered, but gave Mystery a small wink.

“She‘ll make me answer for this atrocity,” Lewis hummed. He hung his arms over the bench seat and stared at the mirror tilted away from him. Lewis raised one arm and poked the mirror, turning it so the reflective surface faced him. “What time is it?”

The question made Arthur stiffen, and stop from working the unfinished prosthetic free of his overnight bag. Arthur meant to reach for his pocket, but he was fixated on the back of Lewis dress suit - his death suit - and the dark contrast blotting. The color was suddenly vibrant red, apple red and shimmering, then the rich hue was purple, Lewis’ sleeves brightened, whitened. Never had Arthur paid much attention to Lewis altering from his skeletal form to his living appearance. No… Lewis never risked transitioning when Arthur was around.

“Want me to wake her up?” Arthur chirped, as he backed away. Mystery stopped nosing around the ice box and tracked Arthur’s movement with his eyes, the dog’s ears aimed toward the Arthur outside, his hurried feet falls crunching on ice. “I’ll go knock!”

By the time Lewis had spun around Arthur was gone, the faint tapping at a door already slithering through the gaping doors of the van. Lewis followed Mystery’s gaze, and set his attention on the neglected metal limb Arthur had left lying beside its unfinished relative. Mystery backed away, a bag of Doritos clamped in his jaws; the hound bristled the fur on his shoulder blades and relocated himself to the corner furthest from the glistening metal arm. Mildly perturbed, Lewis shuffled forward on his knees and lowered himself a little at a time, one arm reaching out toward the curled metal knuckles lay inert.

“ **LEWIS!!** ”

That howl sent Mystery diving into the front seat with a strangled yelp. Lewis jerked up and slammed his skull into the ceiling of the van. Mystery poked his head over the bench seat, in time to view Lewis slamming his fists down over his knees. There was no point in getting upset over it, Lewis tried to play it down and pretend he hadn’t been worked up that morning at all.

 

__

Five hours on the road and Vivi hadn’t shaken her irritation. Mostly because she was working on a report she could have started hours ago, but mostly she didn’t want to admit that she did enjoy procrastination when technically it wasn’t her fault. She held Lewis to blame when he had been looking out for her, but it failed to wane her headstrong desire for a couple pages of progress. At any rate, Arthur hadn’t helped her mood. He had insisted on packing nearly all the supplies from both rooms, while she and Mystery ran the keys down to the front office. The van even got its jump with the freshly charged battery, the frosted vehicle sat engine rumbling impatiently by the time the two had returned. Vivi could have just kicked herself, Arthur had no business doing all this heavy work while Lewis moped around inside.

It wouldn’t be so bad if she was actually motivated to write the report. Blocks of text consisted each gluttonous paragraph on every page, but most of it was standard BS. What was the point of this report anyway? The professors always liked to talk about new age documentation of old hauntings, but unless your team was prominent in the paranormal investigation field, you didn’t get any sort of recognition. Though, that wasn’t why the Mystery Skulls became paranormal investigators - they were in it for the pursuit of knowledge, hard cold facts, and adventure. That’s the impression Vivi had back when… when she and Arthur where ready to restart everything. She didn’t remember it like she knew she should, but she had the sense of it, the heart of their adventures. Back when there were no schedules or deadlines, no standardized reports; just an open road ahead and the freedom to seek out what fate guided them toward. Them – the whole team. Together.

Vivi didn’t realize she was staring at the back of Lewis’ head until Lewis glanced over the headrest and caught her gaze. He winced and took a double take of Vivi, before Lewis moved his gaze back to the road. Vivi felt her face heat up and turned her eyes down to the laptop sitting parallel wit her elbows.

“You need to stop?” Lewis warbled. He was definitely fretful or something. “I mean, it’s been awhile. You hungry?” They hadn’t had any real stops since that morning, when Arthur had dropped off some old oil at a service station. Any other stops were quick and usually for the basics. Beyond the windshield the clouds thickened and darkened, the crest of golden thread shimmered as the sun made its slow retreat into a distant mist.

An audible gurgle came from Vivi, or more accurately Vivi’s stomach. Mystery, lying right between her and Arthur, perked his ears up. Lewis sniggered and looked back. “Is that a yes?”

Vivi was already lying down, and dropped her face into her folded arms resting by the laptops keyboard. “Yes,” she groaned. The van began to decelerate and take a turn, she didn’t care where Lewis was planning to stop. “I’m over it, Lew. You were right, I needed to sleep. Like, for real.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Lewis quipped. “You’ve been stressed and you can’t hide it from me.”

Arthur made a little sound in his sleep. He was supposed to be helping Vivi with some of the EVPs they recorded, but the neatly folded blankets were too much to resist. The way one of Arthur’s eyes was open a crack and glistening in the light of the computer screen, it didn’t look right to Vivi, but it didn’t seem to bother Arthur. Vivi reached across Mystery’s back and pulled the edge of his sleeve a little more over Arthur’s exposed shoulder.

“Hmm. You need to mind your own business,” Vivi muttered. “You sure you’re okay driving this much?” The van shudder and the wheels rattled as the vehicle passed over a dip in the road.

“If I need a break I’ll say,” Lewis assured. “But I tell you it’ll be no different than… before. Uh, I hope this place is okay.”

Vivi saved the document she was already compiling and ejected the USB. “As long as we can nab something substantial,” she said. Vivi sat up on her knees and straightened out her skirt. She touched Arthur on the shoulder and gave him a little shake. “Hey. Artie? Blink your eye, you’re creeping me out.” Mystery scooted closer to Arthur and nuzzled the side of the blanket Arthur was curled around. “Take it easy, Mystery. Your nose is cold.”

“N-no, don’t –” Arthur gurgled. He groped around for Mystery and tugged the dog away. “What? Where?” Arthur shoved himself upright and gawked at the dark walls surrounding him. “What happened?”

“Easy, Art,” Vivi cooed. She unfolded the rumpled blanked Arthur had been crushing and pulled it up around Arthur’s shoulders, and the loyal hound that lay by him. “We’re taking a break. I know you drank your weight in coffee at that last stop.”

“Don’t mention that,” Arthur muttered. Vivi held the blanket around him, as Arthur reached a hand up and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah, I’m on board. Can get out and stretch, fresh air.” Arthur kind of rolled out of his cocoon towards the back of the van. “Where’s my bag?”

“Hold on, we’re still moving,” Vivi called. She plucked up the camping lamp as the computer screen faded, and flipped on the portable light. “Sit tight or you’re gonna fall. Is your arm malfunctioning again?”

“No-no,” Arthur mumbled, and sighed. “Hey bud.” Arthur sat himself by the back doors, and Mystery sauntered over and crouched beside him.

The gas station was a sauna oasis for the winter traveler. Small pods of visitors dressed in large coats braved the short run between the couple of scattered vehicles parked near the stores front, while the engines were left to idle grudgingly; thick clouds spewing from the mud caked mufflers. The van was docked at the gas pump furthest from the typical visitors, its headlamps lights and engine cut. Barely a second and the back doors are flung open.

“—let it happen again.” Vivi tried to stifle her giggle as she disembarked from the back doors. She zipped up the front of her coat and gave the parking lot a brief study – the icy asphalt, a family entering the store one by one. On the nearby overpass cars zoomed, bare trees grew in a patch of wood chip layered earth, tended by the city ordinance. She returned to the van and took Arthur by the hand, before his shoe had the chance to slip on a patch of salt. “We just barely stopped.”

Mystery ambled at the edge of the bumper, lifting one front foot then the other as he inspected his deplorable boots. Really? The hound pawed one boot at the other, gave that up, sat down and gave Vivi a dubious frown.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Vivi said. Like some dastardly mastermind Vivi flung one end of her scarf around her shoulders and straightened up, fists at her hips. Arthur slipped his arm out of her arm loop. “You’ll thank me later.”

We’ll see about that. Mystery turned his snout up and spun around to face his back to her.

Lewis rounded the side of the van, the empty cups from the long ago stop carried in one hand. “It’s not the twenty-one impossible tasks,” he grumbled, and dumped the cups into the trash canister between the gas pumps. “Just grab something on your way out. Easy.”

“Holy buns, you’re such a mother duck.” Vivi stood by the back doors, as Lewis climbed back aboard. “Next time we’ll remember. Right Art?”

Arthur waited until Lewis was out of his way, before he leaned over and took the bag that was offered to him. He and Mystery met eyes, and the dog soundlessly released the bag that Arthur had retrieved. “Yeah,” Arthur stammered. “Wait, what?”

“Tck, that’s what you always say,” Lewis retorts. He paused in collecting up the last of the snack wrappers Vivi had decimated and looked back, but neither had answered. Lewis glides and skided out from the vans back and glanced around, he spied the group already across the road and at the glass doors of the shop; Vivi held the door open for Mystery and she followed Arthur inside. Lewis voice crackled. He dumped the last of the wrappers and returned to the vans interior.

It was something Vivi would tease him about, in response to Lewis persistent nagging. Not the one detail she currently ruled (how did she ever find THAT out?), but when before. During their investigations they all had elected roles to pull through, before they tackled the case head on as a group. Vivi and Mystery scoped the place, Arthur checked the mechanical equipment, and Lewis… he liked to pick up after them when he could. The phrase when she said it, hit Lewis with a slice of Déjà vu. On the job when Vivi caught him at the organizing gig she’d banter with him, but Lewis only needed to remind her that he worked professionally for a restaurant. Cleanliness and organization was a staple of Pepper Paradiso, and he brought those sort of job skills with him to the Mystery Skulls. They just couldn’t be shaken from his lifelong occupation.

Lifelong.

Lewis fitted the sunglasses over his eyes and leaned back on the side of the van, his hands lowered to fumble at his ascot. It didn’t come undone, it didn’t need to be tied, the same way his tie didn’t need physical adjustment. It just was. He fixed his collar and smoothed his thumbs under the lapels of his shirt vest. He untied the ascot and loosened it a bit, then redid the knot. It stuck to his mind, and he couldn’t get the knot just right. Lewis gave up and slammed his hands back into the vans side, igniting a harp crack of sound that echoed across the open road. He stood, staring down at the ground and the ring of water that had formed around his shoes, encircled by the murky gray slush of days old ice. A sharp prick at his ethereal senses compelled Lewis to snap his head up, and Arthur stepping behind the gas pumps across from him, staggered to a halt.

“Whoa!” Arthur sputtered, arm raised. “I’m just getting the battery.”

Lewis casually reached his hands up and locked his fingers behind his neck, as he watched Arthur continue on. “So get it. I’m not in the way.” Lewis turned his attention to the parking lot and scanned. Vivi hadn’t appeared yet, nor had Mystery. None of the customers took much interest in the large van with the big scrape in its side. “She’s gonna chew your ear off, though.”

Arthur dithered at the bumper. He had what was once a vibrant orange towel slung over his shoulder, and set his bag down somewhere inside. “Too bad. Y’know, this is kind of our profession. You could have mentioned something….” He hacked hard into his shoulder as he dragged himself over the floor of the van. “This has been the bummer of a fiasco.” He edged back on his knees, and heaved the battery over the floor a few inches; Arthur did this motion several times until he could set his feet outside and lift the battery.

“I was kind of preoccupied. Remember?” Lewis hissed. A faint mist was rising off of Lewis shoulders and hair. Lewis swiped it away and stepped aside, but the vapor slipped off him in delicate sheets. Probably no one would see or care, but Lewis didn’t care for it. “You could’ve … you know what? Never mind, I don’t wanna get in the middle of this. Just leave it for now.” Speaking of Vivi, she was probably scoring a whole arsenal of drink flavors she’d never seen before. Different towns carried all kinds of new and weird name brands, and Vivi was a sport for trying anything that might boost her heartrate above the norm (or recommended). “The battery. Leave it, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“No—” Arthur quickly dropped his hand to the handle of the battery and yanked it out of the van. “I’ll find some kind of leverage, but I’m gettin’ this down now.” Lewis took a step back as Arthur swayed away and made the long trip to the front. Lewis glowered the way Arthur went, but was effectively ignored.

While Arthur worked disconnecting the old battery and hooking up the new one, Lewis preoccupied himself with dumping the accumulated water from the ice box. Lewis trekked to the nearest drain at the stores front curb and dumped the water, the whole time he kept watch on Arthur as the other fiddled with the engine. If Lewis tried lifting it in the handy towel like a hammock, it would most likely rip through. One of the few mechanical tidbits Lewis knew was that metal plus battery equaled bad, but Arthur was supposed to wait and let Vivi help him. If Arthur wanted to have one of his silent broody tantrums, Lewis wanted a step back from that. Maybe several steps back, for good measure.

Getting away helped, the frail fog was no longer so prominent hovering on Lewis now. He stood with one foot on the coolers edge, his chin set in the curl of his fingers as he pondered. Was there a way to heat the rest of the van and omit a certain space? He’d never actually tried. Maybe it would be best if he saved that test for later, knowing his lucky he would wind up boiling something. Vivi might be ecstatic, for like two seconds. Lewis smirked.

“YOU DARN ANIMAL!”

The unfamiliar and harsh voice sent Lewis recoiling. He looked up in time to see a white flash dart by, and was that a hotdog clamped in his teeth? There he went, that fast moving blur was gone in the blink of an eye, probably beyond the stratosphere by now. Lewis only stood there and watched on, before whirling back to the voice that snarled his way.

“YOU!” A man shorter than him (not saying much), in a big padded gray coat with a furry rimmed collar, huffed and snorted as he charged up to what must’ve been a clueless spectator. “Do YOU know who owns that CREATURE?”

“Um,” Lewis voice sounded something like a moan. He felt the sunglasses slip down his face, and raised a hand to keep them fixed firmly in place. “No. Nope. I have no idea. Did he have a collar?” He tried to grin under his hand and look helpful. The man brushed by, more like shoved past Lewis as he took off in another sprint.

“That was my lunch you mongrel! I’ll call the pound!”

Lewis snatched up the ice box and hurried across the road. Why did Vivi let him pull these stunts?

The remaining ice chunks clunked around in the cooler as Lewis jogged toward the van. Arthur wasn’t in sight, though the hood of the van was still up and the used battery was left on the towel.

“Isn’t it bad to—” Lewis stopped mid step when he skipped past the vans door. This wasn’t good. If anything, Lewis was immediately conflicted, both annoyed and… and… it was something he’d thought was lost in him. “You’re hurt.”

Arthur had his eyes locked on Lewis. The blanket Vivi had bundled Arthur in when they stopped was coiled around his middle tightly, Arthur’s lone arm was bent and his hand pressed behind his shoulder. Arthur took a quick breath, “It’s not that bad.”

Lewis set the cooler aside and pulled himself up into the van. He reached out to take Arthur by the collar of his orange vest, but the moment his hand was an inch from Arthur’s body, Arthur twisted away and propelled himself backwards, eyes white, _shrieking_ :

“Don’t! NO! Don’t touch me! NOT AGAIN!” Arthur scrambles into the back of the seat, he swung something up in his fist from the corner of the van; Arthur’s not sure what, but it’s smooth and cool to the touch. “Y-you WON’T!”

“Calm down, I just want a quick look,” Lewis rasped. He needed to keep his distance, Arthur was practically drowning in revulsion. “How bad is it?”

“Gaw… damnit! I told you!” Arthur sees the thing he’s holding is a simple lighter, but he keeps it raised like a protective totem. “It was exactly the same! I got out and… nothing felt right! Just… you CAN’T TOUCH ME!”

It clicked, almost painfully. If Lewis had a genuine concept for pain, this might be close. He moved from addressing Arthur, and shuffled closer to the cuvee in the vans side where he stuffed the shirt into. “You never say anything,” he rumbled.

“Huh?” Arthur spat. “What am I supposed to say? I told you already! You just… won’t listen!”

“How am I supposed to hear anything when won’t speak up for yourself?” Lewis snapped, voice crackling like static. The radio coughed with a brief snippet of chatter, the windshield wipers squeaked across the foggy glass of the van only to halt mid swipe. Lewis gave up and hit the side of the van, he pushed himself back and turned to Arthur. “You can’t ignore this.”

“Keep your distance, Pepper,” Arthur hissed. He kept his hand and the lighter aimed at Lewis, his heels dug at the floor of the van though he could go no farther. Arthur shifted himself and caught the portion of his left arm over the seat, awkwardly he pulled himself up from off the floor. His eyes never left the ghost. “I’ve got this covered. I don’t need any more help, least of all from you! You’ve— you should….” The lighter thumps on the floor, and Arthur pressed his palm over his eyes. A fit of coughing clawed at Arthur’s lungs, but he managed to bury it down and get some air in. “Don’t touch me, okay? You can handle that?”

Lewis glanced down at the lighter, it had fallen beside one of the crumpled and rolled pieces of rice paper that always seemed to litter the van lately. “Fine.” Arthur winced at the crack in Lewis’ voice. “Deal with this on your own. I get that there are things you don’t want her to know, but don’t make me a part of it. I. Am. Out!”

“Stop pretending, Lewis.” Arthur took a shuddering breath but wouldn’t look up. “She knows, I told her already. That.… For a while, I wanted to pretend I wasn’t the one that did it. But, what else was I gonna say? It wasn’t her fault, and I couldn’t… someone has to take the blame.”

Lewis was about to retort, when a familiar series of barks approached the van. “I have to finish this,” Arthur choked out. Before Lewis turned back Arthur had already flopped over the front seat, and exited the van through the driver side. The door cracked in its frame, and Lewis was left to sink back onto his knees.

“Did I hear yelling?” Vivi prompted. She appeared at the vans back, large overburdened bags that looked about ready to burst hung from her hands. “I saw Art did that thing I told him not too.” She frowned behind her spectacles. Beside her Mystery stuck his head up and oofed, the traces of yellow and red stained his muzzle.

“I warned him,” Lewis began. “Said he needed the distraction, and that you did enough already. Or something, I’m probably wrong.” Lewis didn’t bother to try cracking a grin, hopefully nothing would show. Once they were on the road and preoccupied with anything other than this, it would calm down. It would get better. Thankfully, Vivi couldn’t see his eyes.

The hood of the van rocketed down, and the entire frame of the vehicle shifted. Lewis leaned forward and pulled the merchandise further into the vehicle and freed some space for Vivi to climb in.

“Lewis?” Vivi whispered. She reached out and touched the ghosts shoulder. “Is something wrong? Something I need to know?” She shifted her eyes Arthur’s way as he scuffled around outside, none the wiser.

“He needs space,” Lewis allowed. Mystery was there beside Vivi, leaning forward with his ears aimed at him. “He’s… got something he’s working through.” Vivi kept her eyes fixed on Lewis, focused, and the stare began to unnerve Lewis. After a long minute, Vivi exploded:

“Art, I need to see you!” Vivi winced when Lewis burst into a dozen or more embers, each orb faded through the walls around her. She scowled and looked Mystery’s way. “Men.”

Mystery drew the edges of his lips back and puffed his chest out. Excuse me?

“What? What?” Arthur grumbled, as he climbed into the van on the driver side. “Where’s—?” He shut his mouth when Vivi stole his hand off the seat.

“Ninety-nine,” Vivi chirped. She held Arthur’s arm up by his wristband as she hopped over the seat. As she hunched forward and dug into the driver side pocket, she kept Arthur’s arm raised. Arthur only rolled his eyes and sniffled, but didn’t look directly at Vivi. The sky was darkening faster now, she wouldn’t see his eyes too clearly. Vivi took the work rag with the ninety-nine gel gunk, and cleaned his hand off. “You should’ve waited inside with me where it was warm,” Vivi chided, as she scrubbed his palm with the rag. “You need to make those phone calls too.” She dropped Arthur’s hand. The fresh aroma of synthetic berries tickled Mystery’s nose, and the dog sneezed. Vivi fished around in her scarf then her coat pockets, finally she found the phone.

“Vi, c’mon.” Arthur pursed his lips together when Vivi shoved her hand over his mouth. “Mmmf nuff rrrr.”

“Shush,” Vivi said, and smirked. She swiped her thumb over the phone’s face and hit the speed dial. They waited. “Hey? Hello? Uncle Lance?” She perked. As she listened Vivi brushed her brow over her shoulder and adjusted the pink tinted glasses. “No, I swear. Mm-hmm. Good, how’re things?” Vivi’s face fell. “Hah, heh… ye… he’s uh, right here.” She shoved the phone into Arthur’s face. “Talk to him.”

Arthur pulled his face from Vivi’s hand and glared at the phone. He raised it to his ear slowly, his eyes squinting. “Yeah? Er, no! I did! Mm.” Arthur frowned and listened, as if caught in a lie. “I was. S-sorry I didn’t call sooner. Everything’s fine, I—” He stopped, every so often a soft affirmative sound hummed in his throat. Eventually, Arthur relaxed and leaned back into the driver’s seat. “We’re supposed to be driving now. No, I’m not driving. Of course I would. Yeah – yeah, I know you would. No, they didn’t. Mystery says hi.”

Mystery yapped. Yes, he did. That was a given.

“Listen, Lance? Can I talk to Galy for a bit? Is he? Tell him I wanna talk.” Arthur sat up a bit and waited. “Galaham? Hey lil dude, what’s up? Really? What have I told you about bein’ in the shop?”

During the phone call Vivi nabs the battery and towel and returns to the vans back, where she finds Lewis packing away the snacks. “Are forty-four flavors of pop really necessary?” Lewis inquired, as he held up a bottle with dark contents. Something purple.

“No,” Vivi piped. “They were essential. After this we’re not going to be stopping forever, anyway. Ooh, found the lighter.”

Lewis scooted the ice box back and carried one of the grocery bags with him. He was going to cram as many drinks into the cooler as he could. “And see, the point in keeping these bags is to fill them with crap you’re gonna throw out later.”

“How long do I have on the phone?” Arthur called back. Vivi barely glimpsed up at Arthur as she waved him off with a hand, and lipped ‘keep talking.’ “You sure?” Arthur pressed. He rubbed at his eyes with his wrist band, and returned the phone to his ear. “I’m still here Galy.”

“Wild guess,” Vivi said, as she plucked up a bag of chips. “No one fueled the van?”

Arthur coughed and curled up into a tighter ball. Mystery plopped onto the seats back and climbed down onto Arthur’s lap. “Oof! You wanna say hey, Misty?” Arthur held the phone up to Mystery’s snout.

“Well, I’m kinda flammable,” Lewis grumbled.

It was a winter day, the sun falling by noon time, a day of travel successfully spent. Cloud cover huddled thick across the mauve stained sky, and the temperature began its steady plummet. The lights of the service station flashed with bright illumination, cutting through wisps of white flurries that spiraled downward. One by one the streetlamps along the road began to glimmer with bitter assurance, and spread a shimmering veil across choppy ice sheets layered over the roads.

Soft ticks came from the pump as the ounces counted up to gallons and the price gauge flashed from five to twenty relatively fast. White mist curled around Vivi’s nose as she moved to stand beside Lewis by the van.

“That’s a lousy excuse,” she said, after a pause. Vivi lowered her face behind her scarf and breathed in the warmth. “You’ve helped before.”

Lewis frowned and looked away. “I haven’t been paid yet.”

Vivi snickered. “They pay.”

“Hmm?”

“They pay for the gas. The college,” Vivi stated. She opened her mouth about to go on, but stopped herself and just settled back against the frigid metal. It was kind of too cold, even for her. The faint grind of ice under tires crawled by as another car departed the service station; inside the chilled canister Arthur chattered on in his conversations. Vivi scooted a little closer to Lewis side and leaned into him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Lewis drummed his fingers on the metal wall at his back. On the ground near Vivi’s shoes was a large sheen of water, its edges tinged with ice crystals. “Not now, it’s not a good time,” he answered. “Maybe… you can ask Arthur about it. He should probably tell you.” He jumped back when Vivi hammered her fist on the side of the van.

“Art!” Vivi called, and beat on the vans wall some more, for good measure. “Can you hear us in there?” She continued pounding and stopped. In wasn’t long before someone was bangging back.

“I’m not listening!” Arthur screamed. “And I don’t care!”

Vivi turned to Lewis and gave an over exaggerated shrug. The pump chimed and the handle clicked. Vivi took the nozzle and returned it to the pumps hoister. “What do you two talk about? When I’m not around?” She screwed the cap in place and turned to Lewis. Vivi crossed her arms and glared up at him, even when the pump began buzzing about the receipt.

“We talk,” Lewis offered. “About things. Y’know, it’s… it’s complicated.” The headlamps on the vans back blazed red and dimmed. “I’m not ready… to bring it out.”

Vivi took a deep breath and exhaled, thick white mist swirled at her cheeks. “Are you not ready, really?” she posed. “Or, do you think I’m not ready to listen?” Vivi inched forward, her arms uncoiling from her chest and she reached them up as if to carefully corral an insect. Like lightening she slapped her hands at Lewis chest, the shock of it sent Lewis skipping backwards on his heels. “You didn’t mean to do this?” Lewis gawped, drawing his hands up slowly and began patting at his chest, though the artifact he sought was currently cradled by a bemused Vivi.

“I— Uh, my focus. It’s,” Lewis stammered. Calm, stay calm. It was something he did once before, Lewis hadn’t intended… it just happened! He straightened out his shirt vest and peered at Vivi over his sunglasses. “We should get going. It… That would help.” He accepted the gilded heart locket as Vivi pushed it into at him. He cupped the heirloom in his hands and held it to his chest.

Upon boarding the van Vivi said nothing, she only wrapped her arms around Arthur’s side and heaved him into the backseat. “Viv-VI! WHY? ARGH! Mystery!” When Arthur was relocated so was Mystery, he leapt over the seat and nearly directly on top of Arthur.

Lewis slammed his door shut and gave the key it the ignition a sharp twist, the engine thrummed with renewed vigor. The van found its way toward the parking lots exit and made its way down the road, intermingling with fellow traffic and travelers along the way. “Do I have a direction?” Lewis ventured, as he passed one of the highway ramps.

“I have the route all mapped out,” Vivi said, as she climbed over the seat. She dug around in her scarf and pulled out the crumpled map, one side of the maps fold was traced by a thick blue line. “It should save us between five to three hours, depending how lost we get.”

“Vivi’s talking to Mystery,” Arthur mumbled. The phone was held to his ear by his good shoulder, while his fingers worked to unlace one of Mystery’s booties. “What d’y’mean? I have been eating.” Arthur snagged a plastic triangle and tossed it over the seat; it was one of the package sandwiches Vivi bought.

“Lost?” Lewis echoed. Beside him, Vivi was halfheartedly tearing into the sandwich container. “Since when is lost an acceptable destination?” He glanced over the side of the seat at Arthur in the back, buried under a blanket somewhere with Mystery.

“I don’t think we have much to worry about this time,” Vivi replied. She opened up the glove compartment and fished through an accumulation of papers, she pulled out a penlight. “You’ll want to take Northwest, 59.” She clicked off the penlight and set it and the map between her and Lewis on the seat, then returned to the packaged sandwich.

There was an uneasy calm, as Lewis navigated the van onto the main interstate that lead out of the city. The listless conversations Arthur engaged in came to an end, and Arthur passed the phone back over the seat to Vivi, she mumbled a thank you through the sandwich but little more was said after that.

Half the sandwich was eaten, then Vivi turned around in her seat and offered the other portion to Arthur. Of course he didn’t want it, but Vivi wouldn’t relent until Arthur had accepted the food and took slow little bites. It wasn’t long before Mystery snagged one of the sodas from a shopping bag and passed it to Vivi, who still hovered over the bench seat monitoring Arthur’s progress. Vivi opened the soda and nudged the bottom against Arthur’s forehead, until Arthur gave up and began sipping the cool beverage. Every other swig he would stop and sit, contemplative and silent. Mystery let him have these pauses, but always the dog would nose at his companion through the blanket and nip at the not so empty pop bottle. It took a good amount of time but the soda eventually vanished, along with a bag of chips. The undercarriage of the van wheezed as slush particles swept beneath the pipes. Arthur snuggled down into his blanket with Mystery clutched to him like a lifeline. Somehow, this was comfortable.

“You hanging in there, Art?” Vivi cooed. She hadn’t adjusted herself in her seat the entire time she kept visual of Arthur. By now her own eyes were heavy, and she could barely see the lump of figures curled up beneath the edge of the seat.

“Hmm.” Arthur said. “No.” He pressed his face in the dog’s soft fur and focused on the shallow breath of Mystery. If he pretended to sleep then Vivi wouldn’t be able to resist, and she would have to rest as well. Arthur knew he wasn’t ready to face Lewis, yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're gonna get home and it'll randomly turn into summer.


	34. Chapter 34

**Dream Scape**

 

There was a road. It went on for miles and miles, endless road among a forest of bare trees tangled against a half moon. The wind strummed its lacy fingers through parched branches, what little grass mingled beside the road, sighed as it bowed low. Stars dazzled the distant cosmos, as far beyond his reach as the end of the road he courted. It was a territory he was out of practice with, roads he recalled well but he could not ponder on the specifics of his relationship with a road. He set foot on the this subdued path and it replayed like a loop, no stone or shrub was ever the same, but the night always limped onward relentlessly. An eternal night that kept him shackled to a land in the perpetual twilight; teased him with promises of a reprieve within a daybreak that always rose and melted back into dusk. Half risen suns drowned in an inverted dawn.

By his impression roads were not meant to be this way. A new purgatory, fresh kindling to tend his carefully guarded heat, something about the air stirred him, made him slink deeper into the nuance of wandering. There was danger in testing boundaries; around him deep within the woods there remained zones he was not welcomed. But the road was modern and it had cut deep through the earth decades prior, a mile more. He could always turn back, that was a choice preference.

In the shrouded distance something awaited. It wasn’t there but it was, he knew it just had to be there ahead somewhere and the sense of it needled at him. Abruptly the sensation abandoned him altogether but by then it didn’t matter, he knew something tangible was there though he could not see it clearly, but he would arrive on it in due time. There was no hurry, how long had he been waiting? It was there and it would not leave, if he wouldn’t allow it.

Even when the sharp slit of light hit the amber edge, he couldn’t hasten his pace. He could scarcely believe what it was that he had come upon, and the sight of it briefly stumped him. There. THERE!

He did not go toward it immediately, but kept his guarded distance on the road and studied the slate of color, the self-proclaimed title that read out on its side MYSTERY SKULLS, bright colors exploding in his mind as if a maelstrom of colorful spectrums had never before been witnessed by his eyes. It was here, a van. THE Van.

The acuity of ownership, of belonging failed to taint him as he moved closer to the inert vehicle. It was a place, a mobile station that he had once shared in, yet it was a separate entity from himself. Another identity. Nevertheless, he reached his hand out as he neared, but faltered.

 

__

The rest stop was fifty miles out away from the nearest city, in the midst of jagged rocks speckled by sparse trees and stiff grass stalks. Several groupings of rocks blocked visual of the main road that bypassed the stop, the road itself was practically deserted but for the stray car that happened by.

Its late morning and the rising sun moves to hover behind a cluster of impacted rock that rests at the base of a high hill. A figure picks its way toward the utmost point of the mammoth boulders; its rich pelt is silhouetted by the bold yellow orb trembling behind it, a glossy red sheen coats the ends of its fur. It turns its head and focuses on the figures far below, seated upon a brick wall that chaperon’s visitors toward the interior of the large, gray stone building. Red eyes narrow and sharp teeth poke through the sides of the muzzle, the figure draws back its head and unleashes a loud yawn.

Cool wind prickled the ridge of fur that lined his shoulders. Mystery finished his yawn, as he stretched all the way down until his toes reached the edge of his perch and his chest was nearly touching the cool rock under him. He sat down and put one back leg to work, going to town on the bent and frazzled fur that had tucked into the edge of his ear. That felt too good, and he nearly couldn’t stop himself. Somehow, he managed. And picked himself right up and shook out his coat, his collar rattled in that amusing way it did that let everyone know he was just a dog. Plain and simple.

He adjusted his spectacles with a wrist and once again turned his attention, onto the surviving members of his pack. If he wanted to he could listen and be aware of what they were saying, but the topic was nothing crucial, remedial chitchat. They could do without his company for a while longer. He snapped his ears high and raised his snout into the breeze and sniffed. Leaves, roots, elk, some kind of feline – nothing to fret over. In these areas a case of abandoned beer or some other rubbish dumped by disrespectful guests, was the vilest threat that could be conjured. A shame that good people were far in-between and few, if any.

Mystery let his eyes linger a little longer on the two on the wall, talking. Satisfied, he began to pick his way down the backside of the boulders and crept back into a clutter of trees. No one was calling for him. They’d be fine for a few more minutes.

 

“We’re def. safe, since he only takes victims at night,” Vivi was saying. The computer was working again. Nearly fifty-two hours on the road, both batteries gave it up ages ago. Now was a good time to stop and charge them up. Except… “I’ve never heard of attendants with sleeping quarters.”

Arthur sat on the same wall several meters away from Vivi in the direct sunlight, and doodled in his ‘company’ notebook. “It’s his job,” Arthur grumbled back. Vivi was on the case, and her enthusiasm was becoming a national emergency as far as schedules were concerned. “We’re miles away from the nearest town, it’s the system around these parts.” Arthur directed his pen Vivi’s way, and slapped his hand down when his sketch pad began sliding off his lap. “He’s a government employee. That’s all.”

“No one looks that pale, ever,” Vivi said, hardly focused on the editing of the document. A half eaten ‘Texas sized’ cinnamon bun sat on its gooey wrapper, all of this perched on the side her knee; the snacks only companion was a bottle of iced coffee and a bag of popcorn (a ‘light’ snack). Vivi was ravenous when it came to her excessive sugar intake. “Unless he was some kind of vampire, but he’s out in the sunlight. Can’t be that, nope.” The rest stop attendant had given them a wave as he wheeled his beaten metal mop bucket away on the sidewalk outside. What little hair was upon his gray scalp was scraggly, his arms were boney and his clothing hung over his knobby shoulders; he sort of… slithered on his gelatinous brown work boots. “How long do you think cadavers can keep for? You know, people bodies? You know that stuff?”

Arthur gave Vivi a lopsided grin that revealed the teeth along his cheek. He coughed and tugged his vest a little more around his chest; no matter what Vivi said, it did keep him warm. “That’s not a thing I keep track of. I know how long a person can retain if they’ve drowned in icy water, but not post living stuffs.” He heaved over and snatched his notebook before it hit the cement below. With a smooth rocking motion, Arthur reseated himself firmly on the wall and flipped the page of the notebook over with his thumb.

The rest stop had a few external sockets under the roofs eave, near the glass doors that led into a visitors lobby where the bathrooms and concession stands were. The laptop was hooked up to one outlet, and a separate charger for the laptops additional battery was hooked up to the next outlet, while Vivi had the phones hooked USB hooked to the laptop. They’d save time, and Vivi swore she could finish the reports with this last charge.

“You’re working too fast. You use ‘down’ instead of ‘done’ a couple times,” Vivi mentioned, while pointing to the screen (as if Arthur could see from where he was). “Do you make these errors on purpose?”

“I’m an engineer,” Arthur muttered, with a shrug. “A little gratitude, thank you.”

“Excuse me Mr. inspiration only hits at four fucking in the morning,” Vivi taunted. For a few minutes she worked in silence, ticking at the keyboard on her lap. She sighed, and shifted the position of her legs dangling along the side of the walls edge. “If only,” she whined. She set the cinnabon onto the keypad where she typed. “If only this place had wifi, I could check if there have been disappearances along the road here.”

The pen Arthur had been using just leapt from his hand and rolled across the ground. “Geez, Viv.” Arthur tossed his notepad aside and hurried to reclaim the pen, before it rolled down the ramp. “I think I’ve had enough with disappearances for a while. Getting in too deep like that. I guess I shouldn’t… talk like that.” He examined the pen as he returned to his perch, a little closer to Vivi now. For a short while Arthur sketched in his note pad, a lot of his work was in pen and the bitter odor of the ink hovered around his head. Vivi was quiet for too long, and this caught Arthur, he stilled his hand from marking the page.

“I never really thought about this,” Vivi murmured. Her hands rest on the keyboard, her thumb picks at one of the keys. “Misplaced souls, lingering. That sort of thing. Maybe it’s just something spirits are compelled to do? I might be thinking this the wrong way.” She met Arthur’s eyes and frowned. “Did he… wander like this before?”

Arthur ducks his head from Vivi’s gaze and puts some meager lines into the side of one diagram and traces it, making the line thick. He shakes his head. “He didn’t… there wasn’t a reason for him to.”

Vivi resumes typing, laboriously slow now. “Makes me anxious,” she mumbles. “Like one day he’ll just keep walking. Won’t stop, doesn’t think—” Her voice caught, and Vivi swallowed a bit. She took a swig of her coffee drink and took a deep breath. “Kind of gets lost. What would we do? What?” It takes a second or two for the silence to get to Arthur. He sets his pen aside.

“Sometimes, y’know.” Arthur reaches up and touched the back of his neck, and nearly bites his tongue. “Sometimes, he gets overwhelmed. It happens. People do that all the time… it’s practically natural!” Vivi wraps her arms around her middle and frowns. “Look, hey. He won’t get himself lost.” Arthur scoots closer and sets his hand on Vivi’s shoulder. She doesn’t move but her eyes follow him, and she smirks at the edges of her mouth. “He won’t do that to you again. Even if…” This time Arthur is the one to choke, and he has to lean back and look away. “Even if you have to hunt him down or something.”

That wasn’t what he meant to say, but Arthur didn’t want to tempt… unsavory ideas. He drew his hand back and gripped at the edges of his empty sleeve with his fingertips.

 

__

There was so much scenery to see, always different, never the same. It made the hours on the road tolerable, it was part of what made the travel exciting.

Vivi had her camera with her, she rolled down the passenger window to take some shots of the hill valley below. The sky on their side was clear, but miles away low cloud cover and a thick fog had trampled the fields in the distance below, highlights of sunbeams accented bellowing flurries and vapor. Cold air rushed through the open window, despite it whistling through uninvited the interior of the cab retained a comfortable, warm temperature.

The radio bubbled with music, mostly it picked up static this far out from reliable towers.  Around every hour Lewis would flick his hand towards the radio and shift the channel to a weather station, listen to the broadcaster drone out a forecast, then flipped the channel back to the former station.  Whenever the backlash of static buzzed across the radio, Vivi would pause from sightseeing to shoot Lewis a curious glance.  Lewis would smile her way, and Vivi would return the warm gesture, and go back to her comfortable little spot by the window watching the thunderhead pass.  

It was cozy this way, being sealed up in their dry little shell.  Miles away sleet swirled across the roads, the air would be mercilessly cold and brutal. The roads they kept on remained free of water or hazard; the pavement wound around bends and across metal bridges, and cut through a small town built into the hillside.  They stopped for overpriced gasoline, restocked on some supplies, used the facilities, and off they were again.

In this segment of the endless road Mystery took occupation of the cooler back, while his companions stayed crammed in the front seat. Arthur needed a change of environment and sat in the passenger seat, with Vivi crammed between him and Lewis. Arthur updated a separate report and Vivi invested as much time as she deemed tolerable, in editing and assembling the joint document portion. She took frequent breaks to lie back on the seat and just stare at the stars. It eventually got to the point where she was nodding forward, and Lewis was trying to keep her head up with one hand, least he condemn her face to smash onto the keyboard and do unredeemable damage. Arthur saved the document before Vivi could break the laptop, once this was all done Vivi retreated into the back with Mystery. There was bumping and a groggy whimper, before Vivi had nestled down herself. Lewis lowered the radios volume, and drummed silently on the dashboard as he scrolled through the stations for something instrumental. He could perhaps coax a station from somewhere distant, that should be possible for him?

The hours remained tranquil while the craggy road whirred on and on, its extent inexhaustible. White pools dotted the landscape around them, the high beams of the van would occasionally glitter over frost on trees that hovered beside the road; the world was different in the headlamps of the van. Different in the lights of this vehicle, the van.

Traffic picked up or trickled out as they arrived, and abandoned the larger towns in turn. On the open road fellow travelers became scarce, and the beauty of the night could be witnessed. The stars receded to the vibrant colors of dawn, runny maroon light crept over patches of thick woods, a pale fog rippled among the bare segments of meadows and open farm fields.

Lewis glanced over the headrest and checked the back. Vivi was curled up in a sleeping bag, with Mystery tangled up in the same blanket and Vivi’s arms. It didn’t look like Mystery minded. “When was the last time you slept?”

Arthur twitched somewhat to the sudden, even faint voice, when it alit on the close quarters of the cab. He relaxed after a moment but said nothing. He pulled the edges of the blanket tighter around his shoulders and shifted his legs. Lewis hardly moved at all, except to accommodate some sort of body posture or to make room for Vivi. It kind of unnerved Arthur. “Before we stopped, yesterday,” Arthur mumbled. “I sleep when I’m ready.”

“You’re not tired?” Lewis reached up to the overhead visor and flipped it down. “Not good for you,” his voice echoed, warning.

“I feel all right.” Truthfully, Arthur hadn’t slept the previous day either. “It’s beautiful, the colors.”

“Yeah.” Lewis picked at the sunglasses in the cup holder. He didn’t want to push Arthur a whole lot. “I really messed up, huh?”

Arthur thudded his brow on the cold window and watched his breath fog over the glass. The lights of some town they bypassed, sparkled in the distance with paling colors. “Lew, when I… not that. Um.” He reached up with the blanket, and began wiping little sections out of the fading haze in the window. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, lately.”

Lewis’ voice hitched, like it popped into the radio and out. “Hm. Since when don’t you?”

“Heh.” Arthur’s medicine was in his bag in the back. It didn’t help a lot with his throat, but he liked to think it kept him awake. A series of low whimpers came from the behind them, it was probably Mystery. It was hard for Arthur not to feel sorry for the hound. A random thought trickled into Arthur’s head, and he snorted with the chuckle. Lewis looked his way, maybe startled but he didn’t inquire. “Sorry,” Arthur snickered. “I was thinking of something. Do you remember that one case, the one where I was begging Vivi: “Please, please. Save the villains?’” Arthur gagged a bit as he sniggered, his nose stuffy.

SAVE the villains? Lewis couldn’t picture any of them actively making an effort to save those kind of people, if he was rolling on recounted experience. He shook his head. Nothing specific came to mind.

“It was the one in the state park that was closed to visitors, and the archeologists… lemme think. I know… villains, it sounds really hokey, but I panicked,” Arthur mumbled. He rubbed his thumb on the edge of his blanket. “It was kind of a neat job. Sacred artifacts disappearing from a just as sacred temple, no solid evidence to who the culprit was, no suspects; I think the lore went that the local god – this bear demon thing – was showing up to punish trespassers. That thing was terrifying, actually. It showed up and scared the students, none of them could figure out how or where it would vanish off to. None of this ringing any bells?”

Lewis cocked his brow at Arthur. “I don’t see how that would make you laugh. Though, there must’ve been something that happened…?” He waited for Arthur to continue. For a while Arthur sat staring out the window, collected, watching the sun tease gold tendrils through a low hanging haze.

“Something about rival archeologist camp, stealing artifacts to sell off to highest bidders,” Arthur said. “It took us a while to make progress… those guys. They figured a way of using the ancient aqueducts to get around, but they were like a maze and people had… gotten lost in them, a lot didn’t make it out.” Arthur went silent when Lewis picked up the sunglasses and put them on his face, effectively blotting out the bright gleam of his ember eyes. Arthur folded down a little more in his seat, fingers tugging on the pinned sleeve of his shirt. The thing that always shocked him about that case was the nightmares. Arthur didn’t dream a whole lot about the demon bear, but he had a lot of those wandering dreams. The ones where he stumbled into the underground water tunnels, and got lost forever in the dark, the cold. He shuddered.

“Did Vivi… well, Vivi always does the Vivi yes thing,” Lewis replied. Once she got an idea in her head, there was no telling what would happen.

Arthur nodded. “Y-yeah.” That’s how it went. Vivi did the one thing the group was not supposed to do, and ran off on her own without a word to anyone. Inspiration struck, and she was going to slap it back or something. Thankfully she had not disappeared into the aqueducts beneath the temples, Mystery found her scent easily enough and it led deep into the pine forest. “There was this little hidden road way out there,” Arthur continued. “Almost washed out and tricky to hike. We sort of ‘commandeered’ one of those little off terrain golf carts they had for the tourists. I can’t believe we did that.” Arthur maneuvered his arm a bit under the blanket. He wasn’t cold, but it helped him to have something covering his shoulders.

“Are you sure you didn’t catch this on TV or something?” Lewis said. “I think I’d remember dealing with a demon bear and artifact smugglers.”

“This was one of our cases,” Arthur insisted, through a half yawn. He quieted when Vivi murmured something in the back, probably shifted. It didn’t make sense that Lewis would be the one unable to recall the case, he was the one that was gung-ho about scouring the woods until they found Vivi. Not that Arthur wasn’t impartial to turning the entire forest upside down to find their lost teammate (and leader), in fact he was more afraid of losing her than the possibility of running into the demon bear out there. It was a crisis.

“It was hard keeping up with Mystery,” Arthur went on, softly. “We did find their camp though.” The smugglers operation was well organized, and they had old military jeeps that they were loading up with acquired artifacts. That wasn’t the problem though, the problem was that they did find Vivi was there but she was unconscious. “And you… lost it. It was spectacular.”

“¿Es de verdad? Not making this up?” Lewis inquired, once more. “I can see Vivi charging off on her own and getting into trouble, maybe. Usually though, you’re the one that gets nabbed.” Lewis raised a hand up to his plush hair, presumably to smooth the pompadour back but stopped. Briefly Lewis glimpsed his palm before he set his hand back onto the steering wheel. “You stop to look at something shiny, or it has moving parts. You— but you, well, you don’t pay attention a whole lot when you should. De la solapada.” It wasn’t a challenge to get them all separated, especially if something big and disputably hazardous was chasing them. Lewis had never really given that consistency any sort of consideration, until now of course. Huh.

“There was no intriguing machinations to tickle my fancy way out in the boonies. This time, I stayed with the group,” Arthur grumbled. “One of the times I don’t get kidnapped and you conveniently forget. It used to be one of our favorite cases too. We took a lot of pict— Mmm, there was a lot of folklore and exploration. Vivi got caught up in it, I guess that’s why she took off like that.” Arthur also didn’t want to mention he was kind of taking it easy after having stitches put in from another incident. He felt like a burden on this case. “She loves that stuff. Anyway, you saw her there, so you bombed the heart of operations and went after those guys… some of them even had guns. I was terrified. You - Fucking berserker mode: Unlocked.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth pulled back in a grin, and he elevated his hand like a sort of table. “I was under a jeep, and when I looked up at the commotion I see you with a camp fire at your back. You grabbed this big cast iron skillet, the really big thick ones that weigh fifty pounds. You went all Star Wars on them – except it was a skillet and not a light saber – and grabbed part of this tent in your other hand.” Another little giggle burbled out of Arthur as he interchanged hands, between pantomiming Lewis elected weapons. “Skillet, tent, and when you started taking down those guys, they started to panic and most were trying to book it. Mystery, he snagged some sort of sacred urn thing – it was kind of important later, but they thought he was gonna eat it I guess, a bunch of them were chasing him all over the camp. Utter chaos. This was going down, and I caught up with Vivi and was trying to wake her up. I kept saying… “‘Vi. Vi. You gotta wake up now, sweety, the villains need saving.’ I didn’t know what else to call them, kooks?”

The music cuts off as the radio buzzes with static; it makes Arthur twitch in his seat. “Oh wait,” Lewis said. “I think… weren’t they trying to get the bear demon out there too, when all of that was happening. They wanted it to – I dunno – mortal combat with me, so some of them could splint with the artifacts they could.” He direct a finger at Arthur, and smirked. “Usted. Puedes echar poco, you sabotaged the engines, didn’t you?”

Arthur made a gesture with his hand and tugged the blanket back up over his shoulder. “Anyone could do that. I just did it without getting caught… for once. The movies make it look simple.” He pulled himself up to look in the back and check on Vivi, still sleeping. “It was either you or me, but I wasn’t about to trust you sneaking around. They’d be like, ‘Oh, an eclipse! The end is neigh, we should have never finagled with the sacred burial site. Wait-wait, no. What is that?’ Then I’d be the one with the skillet light saber and a tent flag. Was that your plan? Or did you just improvise?”

“My story was gonna be, ‘I’m the new guy for the bear suit.’” Lewis turned the volume down when the station chewed the static. He was sure he wasn’t responsible for that. “Admit it, it could’ve worked. If it worked and they put me in that suit, I would’ve been unstoppable. ‘Dangit. Another guy didn’t read the instruction manual.’ I would‘ve warned them I needed extensive practice beforehand, but they could film me and it’d get Vine famous.”

Arthur sniggered in his throat. “Vine famous? Oh, you hit your head there pretty hard, huh?”

Lewis reached a hand up and brushed aside some of his bangs and touched his forehead. “Jeez, you nearly fainted. I told you it wasn’t bad, head wounds just have a nasty habit of over bleeding.” He swept that hand across his chest and straightened out his ascot. “Ruined my favorite shirt though.”

“Dude. Dude. Spoiler.” Arthur held out his hand and paused. Lewis looked Arthur’s way and waited for him to continue. “It was identical to all the other shirts you own.”

“It was new, that’s the key difference.” Lewis stiffens a bit, and kind of tilts his head when he looks at Arthur again. He fidgeted, slipping his hands up to the top of the steering wheel and tightened his grip, the plastic crinkles in his fists. Lewis checked the back, then returned his eyes to the road. The asphalt glistened with tones of cinnamon, transparent purples and deep blues ripple as the light singed the darker tints. A thin mist hung over the tarmac and coiled through the shrubbery nesting beside the road.

“You could have done part time for the Fred Fazbear’s,” Arthur mentioned. A chuckle lingers in his throat, Arthur winds up wheezing into the fold of his blanket. “Traumatize the little kids.” A little shiver coils up Arthur’s spine. He turns to a quiet Lewis. “Um… that demon bear suit was infinitely less terrifying than those animatronics. Safer too. They would’ve adored you. Especially your sisters, they always love it when you bring home a souvenir.” Arthur snapped his mouth shut, his teeth made an audible click. Lewis was absolutely silent and somehow, it was more unsettling than a disinterested Lewis.

Arthur sank down into his little ball and rested his cheek on his knee. He pretended to sleep, even if he didn’t want to. There was no way getting around it. There were many things that even a skilled mechanic couldn’t fix.

 

__

The candles alit at his passing, the flame twinkles briefly before the crisp draft of the hall snuffs the light out completely. A deep, impenetrable black fog hovers in the depths of the corridor, but at his approach it coils back, receding further back through the seclusion that he cannot reach. This arrangement seems to benefit them both, but he is careful not to hasten his pace. There is little to see at all, only a hall and a hall, continuous. It felt like he had traveled it for years, though he knew that was impossible.

There came a corner and around its side was a staircase. His hand slid across the polished banister as he moved by, gaze focused up into the dank shadows above and their secrets. Roots slithered down from the upper steps; the barest shimmer of candlelight gave an eerie sheen of red to the barks thin veins. It was difficult to make out but he was almost certain there were branches too, bent and curved down from the ceiling. That didn’t make sense, they did have trunks.

A black rock coated the floor, smoothed and polished by centuries of rolling water droplets. The room he was within felt confined, a small table stood beside him with a small candle atop; there was nothing else. The light the candle offered did little but provide a small parachute of illumination, there were still walls but no more corridors leading nowhere. It was just a room, a large suffocating room filled with dark. Someone had traveled the world over twice, collected up all the unsettling shadows that they could wrangle, and stuffed them into this room. It was oppressive.

From the coarse murk surfaced a wall, an unremarkable wood wall. At its base rolled up a corroded metal rail track that disappeared beneath the wall. There was nothing else of interest in these odd features, he knew he had seen it before somewhere and that’s why it was here. The candelabra on the wall flashed with instant radiance, and faded in the same breath as he kept on his way without pause. He should’ve felt something for the brief snuff of light, but he was numb to it. His whole sense of self felt drawn back, displaced. It was that same sensation as slipping into sleep, but without losing awareness. He swayed.

A door slipped in under the sudden pulse of another candle. The flame steadied and the door stayed where it was, in the wall, watching him. It felt like the door was watching him, waiting for some kind of action. Its surface was chipped and tinted red, a black etch was burned into the upper half. From it came a kind of foreboding regret, the sensation of it was so strong he had to pull back from the edge of the candles dome of light. It was something almost physical, almost visible. He waited listening to the distant hum, his own heartbeat, on the stale air. The door awaited his decision as patiently as any regular door would.

Without further hesitation, he reached for the tarnished handle, it didn’t need to turn, the door opened smoothly and he crept forward. Another room, smaller, he couldn’t tell. The door hissed shut against his palm and he chanced a look back. A candle sparked beside his shoulder, its light illuminated the glossy surface of a black pool at his feet.

“You fell,” said a voice. “You fell, and I pushed you.”

When he spun back, there was no one. A corridor opened up before him, a lone candle blazed atop the desk seated by the wall. He rushed in its direction, and towards the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just... its surrealism in D minor.


	35. Chapter 35

**Places Gone**

 

“You’re kinda restless….” Vivi murmured.  “No pun intended.”  This wasn’t going anywhere, she reminded herself.  “Why don’t you try distracting yourself?  I’m not going to believe the van is still in order, Mr. Fuss pants.”  The heap of shadow ducked over the seat, effectively blotting out the amber and golden streams of warm light that had fallen over the sleeping bundle squished into the passenger seat’s half.  His personal illumination tinged the shielded interior with luscious pinks.  “No comment?” 

 Lewis used one hand to shield his eye sockets, and stared out into the vague distance.  Pieces of ash flaked off the ceiling as he bent over and retreated further into the vans back.  He knelt down in the small pool of shadow and wedged his elbows behind him, against the trembling walls.  The floor around him remained a frozen tumult of sheets, chip bags, and coke bottles, yet he made no move to hassle over the proposed task.

 This is how it had gone for the past few hours.  Lewis himself didn’t realize he was doing it, pacing around in the back, accompanied by long gaps of absolute silence.  It wasn’t a problem, he was weightless and eerily silent, but the lightbulb in the ceiling would occasionally flicker and while the radio had been turned off long ago; it persisted to malfunction and Vivi could only manage the sporadic pulses of sound when they leapt forth.  Somehow throughout this the van never stuttered from its pace, but that might have been in its distance or the layers of metal that protected it from direct influence.  It would have been an interesting study, if they were any place else.

 “Heya Mystery.”  Vivi reached up her free hand to scratch under the hound’s chin.  “He’s doing fine,” she says, as Mystery stretches his head out for the scratching.  “I’ll let you know if anything changes.  I got an eye on both my boys.”  Mystery ducked his head down under Vivi’s hand, and moved the side of his head low to set his cheek by Vivi’s shoulder.  Vivi could just barely tilt her head up enough to see around the headrest and check on Lewis, miles away.  A few of the familiar flames sprout around his shoulders, their light flickered as each ember smolders briefly and snuffed out in turn.

 For once Arthur had stayed out cold throughout the morning without so much as a twitch, and Vivi was adamant about not interrupting.  Judging by the shade under his eyes, Arthur needed every millisecond that could be wrestled free.

“Maybe you should rest,” she suggested, without looking back. As before Lewis didn’t respond. “You don’t think that’d help?” Vivi snapped her hand to the radio and spun the loose dial, the garbled chatter was immediately doused and she breathed a sigh that Arthur hadn’t budged. Sometimes Vivi’s hand didn’t find its way back from the radio to the steering wheel. If Lewis was present and braced to the seat with his hands, she would set her fingers over his knuckles. Lewis was wholly distracted and never noticed Vivi’s grip.

“I can turn around, Lew.” Vivi maneuvered herself up to see past the headrest and watched the ghost in the back as his skull spun about, the dark walls around him flicker with the movement of his radiant pompadour. Radiant, she almost wanted to giggle. “Or have we come to far? Jeeves, you gotta talk to me. Is it gonna be worse if I try and turn around?” Lewis gawked about the walls but his embers eyes seemed to be focused beyond them, and out into the forest that surrounded their transportation; their protective bubble. The walls of the van suddenly felt very thin, and the windshield felt expansive and open.

Mystery returned to the space directly behind Arthur’s seat. His ears and expression observed Lewis’ erratic patterns.

“What road did you take?” Lewis’ voice scratched out.

Vivi was silent. She nibbled on her lip. “I thought you knew,” she uttered. “Are… Isn’t that why I’m driving?” Lewis didn’t answer. “Speak to me,” she went on. “Tell me I didn’t just fuck up. This is the only road I—”

“No,” Lewis hummed. He crept back to the vans front and steadied himself over the bench seat, skull slowly rotating at the edge of his suit collar. A second after Lewis’ skull spun a fraction, and his eye sockets fell on Arthur. In turn Arthur, bunched up on the seat, sputtered as he jerked his knees under the wad of blankets that had wrapped about his legs. He tried to roll over and get upright, without heaving himself upright, but was momentarily disoriented and off balance while pitched on his bad side.

“Mornin’, Art,” Vivi chirped, a little tremble in her voice. She pushed her elbow under Arthur’s backside, but Arthur managed at long last to twist over from the helping leverage, and thrust his fist into the seat. The van rattled on the road, potholes the size of Texas littered the tarmac and the shudders only added to his vertigo; though Vivi made all sane attempts to avoid them. “Sore?”

Arthur mumbled something, wasn’t even sure himself what he was saying. He paused to reassess his bad memory and trek across conversations, anything he might’ve prattled about in his exhaustion. It hurt that he had no faith in his own memory.

“No, um,” he moaned. “I need a coffee. Do we still have a coppy?” Despite his heavy lethargy, Vivi smiled. In the cup holder was a half empty/full bottle of the iced coffee, a glistening coat of beads slicked the bottles side around what little of the creamy liquid remained within. “Soda? Poprocks?” He jumped when Mystery’s nose popped over his shoulder, a little bag in his teeth. Arthur accepted it and bit the top. “I got this,” he grumbled, when Vivi held a hand out. A chilled can of Super Elixir slid down the seat and plopped beside Arthur’s knee. He shoved the blanket over his knees and scooted more over from Vivi. What followed was Arthur’s carefully orchestrated system of breakfast preparation; he put the soda can between his knees, while the half opened poprock bag hung between his teeth. He pulled the cans tab and a puff of foam jumped from the crease in the popped top.

“And people wonder why I’m not surprised that you like Surf’s Up Pizza,” Vivi muttered, shaking her head. She twisted around in her seat once more and checked where Lewis had stationed himself now.

“I can’t rectify people’s poor sense of taste.” The contents of the candy pack were dumped into Arthur’s mouth and he took a large swig of high octane soda. “Hmm.” Arthur nearly inhaled when he saw Lewis’ skull staring over the seat at him.

“Jesus Art,” Vivi yelped. “Don’t choke yourself. I don’t get points if you choke!” She would’ve started slapping Arthur, if Lewis wasn’t hanging over the seat again.

“Stop. We should,” Lewis uttered. “Two minutes. It was here, wasn’t it? Close.” Everything looked different in the light, the stretching shadows withering in the confinement. The trees that bordered the road felt retracted, far away. Somehow being holed up in the van the way he was, it made Lewis feel exposed, open to the elements. That made sense to him, in that ever familiar morbid sort of way.

“Where are we?” Arthur wheezed. He swallowed a bit of the ultra-sweet swill and choked on the heat in his throat. “Is this where I think we are? Vivi? What the fuck, Vi?! You had one job. One job….” He wasn’t listening to what was spilling from his mouth, Arthur had taken a sudden fascination with the can he was holding and began the ingredients off somewhere in the back of his head. “How can you fuck up this—”

“He was driving!” Vivi barked. “I’m a civilian, I’m just doing my job.”

“We’re not stopping,” Arthur gurgled. He dropped the tall can into the cup holder and jammed the sticky packet of poprocks in beside it. “We need to keep going, get out of this area.” He pressed himself beside into the passenger a little more, when he realized Lewis hadn’t budged from his looming poise.

“You don’t need to get out,” Lewis replied. “I doubt there’s anyplace out there safer than this region.”

Arthur put his arm around his shoulder and frowned at the skull. “I beg to differ.”

Vivi looked from Arthur, then back to Lewis. “He’s right,” she says. “We keep going. You might get… sidetracked or something.”

“I won’t,” Lewis retorts. He spun his skull to check the passenger window, and looked out the driver side. This place called to him, though Lewis was certain he didn’t want to linger here. Not in the daylight when everything was vastly distorted, equated to the night and the bright moon that always rose to caress the long winding path. The path that awaited him. Everything he didn’t want, yet was now a part of him. The terminology Vivi used when describing the nature of lost souls.

No, he didn’t have any kind of nature. Lewis wasn’t like that. He relocated to the back of the van and huddled in the corner thinking, struggling to work this out. He didn’t want to be here, but he wasn’t sure where it was he didn’t want to be. Trying to dwell on it, dissect the heart of this contemplating didn’t enlighten his introspection. They were right, Vivi and Arthur, weren’t they?

“Why don’t you just slip on out, then?” Arthur grumbled. He pulled his legs up to his chest and sipped the drink over his knees. “You could just do that? It’s not like you c—?”

“Art, rude!” Vivi snapped. “We can stop. If you… if you think you need to, Lewis.” Truthfully, that had been something she had reflected over, and worried the he would get it into his mind to do so himself, if she didn’t keep up with him. “This is close to where your mansion was, isn’t it? Is it…?” She tapped the brake gently. The van dragged out of cruise and began to decelerate. Arthur made a little sound in his throat and poked his head up, he glanced from the passenger window and tilted forward to see far across the sloping hood. It was a risk, but possibly Lewis was drawn to this place. “We’ll stop, just don’t, y’know, tamper with the van. How ‘bout that? Lewis?”

It was in everything that made these woodlands. Manmade metal walls only diminished it by a margin – the air, ground, even the light, was saturated with this weaving. “A couple more miles,” Lewis uttered. His skull dipped low as before, in his silent contemplation. He didn’t hear what Vivi said next. There was a place here and it called to him, he lacked description and word for the sensation of desire in him. He brought a hand up to cover the gilded locket on his chest but even that failed to nullify its prominent tempo. Some soul searching clarified for him that he DID want to be here, but it wasn’t where he belonged. That wasn’t right either, this was where he belonged and he wanted that longing.

A subdued ‘woof’ slipped from below the base of the seats back, where Mystery lay, paws pressed together and his head slumped over the crook of his arms. His eyes were trained on Lewis, but not intently. Lewis couldn’t read Mystery’s expression.

“Everything looks totally different in the daylight,” Vivi mused, aloud. She kept an eye out, though she wasn’t too confident on the specifics of that night. “Arthur?”

Arthur was in the middle of sipping his drink. He gestured to Vivi with his drink and set it into the cup holder. “I’ll sit in the van. Everything will be fine, I’m sure. Of course,” he chattered on, to himself.

That didn’t sound reassuring. “Mystery will be here with you,” Vivi offered. She began to say something more, but her voice went quiet and she leaned a little more into the driver side door.

“Misty? You gonna look after me?” Arthur prompted. He turned in his seat as the dog poked his head up. “You’re good at that, huh?” Mystery grumbled in his throat. Of course he would, what could possibly go wrong? Arthur gave the back of Mystery’s neck a scratch. The dog clambered into the middle seat where he curled down between Vivi and Arthur, and set his head on Arthur’s lap.

“It’ll be neat to see around in the daylight,” Vivi mentioned. “That should help. Takes out the creepiness factor.” Lewis glanced up but didn’t respond. “Are you a little tense? Would some music help?”

“No. I’m trying…” Lewis’ voice buzzed. “If you keep driving, that would be good.”

“Lew?” Vivi took her eyes from the road to check Arthur, then looked into the back. She wasn’t sure what to say, if there was something that should be said; aside from appreciating the small glimmer of relief. “Are you sure? What do you think you need?” This behavior wasn’t unusual, she determined that much. She couldn’t forget when Lewis was first… had ventured out with them. Still, she felt like she was missing some critical element, after all, Lewis had been in a dormant state when he was moved. It could have helped the transition, but she wasn’t certain of anything. There were no books that she knew of to console her misgivings, at least none she was aware of.

Now that Vivi thought of it, the way she related to Lewis was different. Probably because she knew his human face, and very rarely associated him with anything ghost like. Lewis had put great effort forward in helping her see past that aspect of him. With her thought’s preoccupied, Vivi didn’t see the hand curling around the steering wheel. It was kind of dangerous, but the road was deserted as far as the eye could see.

Arthur nodded toward the back. Mystery had relocated himself to the floorboard and squeezed by, as Arthur shuffled over the middle seat. “I can drive for a bit.” Vivi didn’t argue, she pulled off to the roadside and hopped into the back. Arthur slipped behind the steering wheel and put the van back into drive. He managed to keep them moving, without too much of a hitch. Mystery pulled himself onto the passenger seat and stood up on his rear legs, the little bob of his tail wagged. “Lemme know if – if things change,” he called.

“How’re you handling it?” Vivi cooed. She moved to the wall beside Lewis and sat near him, hands clasped to her knees. “If it helps to talk, or…?”

“Talk?” Lewis kept his hand pressed over his locket. “That would, yeah. Would you hold onto this, for me? I shouldn’t be asking you, but I don’t trust myself.” He plucked the locket from his chest and presented it to Vivi. “Sometimes… I wonder— Never minder.” He curled his fingertips around the edges of his locket. Vivi stared at the pale sheen glinting along the hearts side, the small mars that always lingered. Without a word she took the end of her scarf and cupped it in her hands. Lewis set the locket in the folds, and Vivi wrapped it up and set it on her lap.

“I should’ve known,” Vivi murmured. “I didn’t think. How could I have let this happen?” She slumped her shoulder against the wall and stared at the little lump of her scarf. “I should’ve been more careful about where we went.”

Lewis raised his skull higher, checking the front seat and Arthur’s tuft of hair stuck up above the headrest. “It wasn’t your fault,” he hummed. He slanted his brow and looked away, his eye sockets smoldered. “You being near, it helps I think. I appreciate it.” Vivi raised her hand, but hesitated a moment.

“I know you’ve been trying so hard.” Vivi paused as the whole of the van rattled over a rough patch in the road. “It shows. Sometimes I flat out refuse to ask, ‘cause I am scared. Lew, you get scared too still, for yourself?” She set her hand on his knee. “You don’t want to lose who you are?”

The comment made Lewis jar and shift back from Vivi. That might’ve been too close to a truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, but Lewis did tilt his skull lower. “Sometimes I wonder….” When he failed to continue, Vivi leaned forward. “Cómo me fui robado… en primer lugar. Creo que debo descansar ahora. I’ve been driving for, forever let’s say. I thought that was good.” Lewis hadn’t realized he slipped back into Spanish, until Vivi inquired what he was up to.

“Should I?” Vivi scooted away, as Lewis stretched his legs out. She motioned the front seat, but Lewis swiveled his skull.

“Keep an eye on me.” Blankets were worthless, Lewis needed no bed or to feel comfortable in order to ‘sleep’, but he did prefer a sense of grounding if he remained tangible. It wasn’t the same as a deep rest, but Vivi would worry if she couldn’t see him. And he would worry too. “Please.”

“If that’s all you need,” Vivi answered. “I’ll be right here.” Lewis bobbed his skull minutely as it lowered over the edge of his suit collar, and suspended near the top of his tie. “I could just… UGH!” Vivi raised her fists up and growled. “I had the map.”

“You know, I’m not gunna ask,” Arthur piped up. He adjusted the rear view mirror and set his hand back to the steering wheel. “He was on autopilot, I guess. Typical.”

Vivi sighed and took off her glasses, she inspected them in the light spilling in over her shoulder. “Lewis was. He woke me up to take over. I don’t think that was the only reason.” Recalling that, Vivi almost wanted to smirk. “I could be wrong.” It was best not to worry Arthur too much, he didn’t need that.

“Huh?”

“Keep your eyes on the road.” Vivi set her glasses back on her nose. She unwrapped the end of her scarf from around her neck and set it to the side of the van beside her backpack. “Do you think we passed it yet?”

Arthur inched forward in his seat and scanned along the side of the road. “I dunno,” he sniffed, and shrugged. “I don’t know if what it looked like was spooked up, enchanted, but I’m not stopping at all. No power in hell’s gonna stop the van here, even if I have to push it through lava.” Mystery nestled down closer to Arthur’s leg and shut his eyes, though the dog had no intention of sleeping.

“I was curious,” Vivi began. She cautiously pat Lewis on the shoulder, made certain that whatever slumber state the ghost was in, he couldn’t be roused from it. She pulled Lewis sideways by his shoulder and lay him down on his back, hands to his sides. “Nothing can hurt us here, right? At least, Lewis thought that.” She pulled one of the blankets over the inert figure, and tucked it along his sides. She half expected his skull to topple from its perch and roll around on the floorboard, or something unsettling like that, but it seemed tethered by that force which kept it in place above Lewis’ shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Arthur murmured. He did keep his eyes trained to the side of the road. The sky was nearly cloudless and the sun intense, the atmosphere was filled with a creamy haze and a gray veil clung low over the bent and knotted tree canopy. “This whole area always gave me the skin crawls. You believe me right, Mystery?”

Usually. The dog opened one eye and glanced at Arthur. Mystery swore he wasn’t napping, but Lewis was so good at keeping the van warm.

The laptop chimed its welcome as it booted up, the pale blue became the only radiance in the gloomy back. Vivi set the wrapped heirloom beside the keyboard as she curled down and went to work, she started by locating the main document for their maps. They used the same ones when they were driving home, but those ant trails needed some alteration. A complete overhaul wouldn’t hurt, she could start from scratch.

“I can’t blame you,” Vivi said. “Well, I wouldn’t. Artie?” She turned her attention from the keyboard and set her hand on the folds of her scarf.

“Yah?”

“I know Lew didn’t say it, but he wanted to.” Vivi looked at the suit and the skull, a bleached skull. She’d thought it over and concluded it’d be in poor taste to cover Lewis up completely, even if they did get stopped. “There are some things he has a hard time saying, and it’s a struggle for him when he wants to say it.”

Arthur wheezed, and he slouched in his seat by the window. “I know, Vi. He’s told me.” Arthur pinned his knee to the steering wheel and rubbed at the bandage under the collar of his vest. The forests thicket was beginning to thin mile by mile, and a sign on the roadside warned of train tracks. “This is some shoddy recovery, huh? We’re a mess. I mean, what are we supposed to do? What really are—?”

“Art, hold your Segway.” Vivi appeared over the seat’s back and put her hands on Arthur’s shoulders. “You’re thinking too far ahead, okay? Recovery isn’t a thing that happens overnight, or in our case… however long it’s been.” She spared a moment to look back, and make certain Lewis hadn’t moved. “Those aren’t your standards, they aren’t mine. We take it like we can manage it.”

“Like a train wreck.” Mystery ruffed at that. “I’m not cherry coating it.”

“Good, ‘cause I didn’t fucking want you to.” Vivi heaved a sigh as she slumped over the seats backside. “Look at this road.”

“Uh-huh.”

Vivi motioned the windshield. “It’s all sad because it’s a busted, and no one every uses it ‘cause it’s old and forgotten.”

“Charming.”

“But it’s a good road,” Vivi continued. “It’s hard to work with, we had a bad experience along here – a good one too, to be fair – but the road is here, and we can use it. We can use it anytime we feel brave enough, or daring enough, or when we feel like giving up. You wanna know why?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes on the sleeve of his bad arm and kept his face down. “Why?” For a moment Vivi paused, for dramatic effect.

“This road will lead us somewhere, always,” she said. “It’s here, it’s stable and reliable, but you can’t tell that by looking at it. You’re doing good, Art. Every day you get up, take a step, you’re going somewhere. It just takes time, don’t forget that.”

Arthur nodded a little. He set the van to cruise, and tapped his foot the floorboard. “Vi,” he says. “That was reeaaally terrible.”

Vivi dropped her forehead to the headrest. “I knoooow,” she groaned, muffled. “I was trying to come up with something redeeming for the demon road, and… I’m burnt out. Get us out of here, would you?”

“I can’t muster the strength to argue. Oh no.” Arthur accelerated and adjusted the cruise speed. No matter what, it didn’t change the scenery of the road extending onward, miles and miles, trees on either side. He shuddered, but managed a small grin for Vivi. They’d find the end of it, out there somewhere. “It did help. I’ll give you that.”

“That’s what matters most,” she replied, and leaned over to give Arthur a little kiss on his forehead. Arthur snorted and began on one of his thick coughing fits, he buried his chin in his shoulder until the wheezes subsided.

Meanwhile, Vivi returned to the laptop, the locket swaddled in her scarf, and the dozing ghost. The map didn’t have a name for the road, but it didn’t stop her from taking it off their route. She spent the next few hours rewriting once trails, while keeping her word to Lewis. She remembered a time when trips home were full of mirth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, poor Vivi. Her boys are always falling apart. 
> 
>  
> 
> Literally.


	36. Chapter 36

** Carbon Dating **

 

 

When the shutters went up, work began none stop until closing. For a full twelve hours customers came and went, leaving overworked and troublesome vehicles, whilst others departed with their serviced transportation fresh from the garage. The bell in the lobby chimed, announcing the imminent arrival of their next client from the open lot outside.

A large window was set in one wall, and allowed those within the office to see a portion of the garage itself as the crewmen toiled. The backdoor that led out of the office and into the work zone of the shop always remained open, vivid reverberations from within the garage seeped through on the low hanging perfume of the mechanics lair. Always the office smelled of fresh oil and plastic, crisp smoke curled from embers, mingled with the ozone dripping from scalded hydrogen of the pressurized pipes. Pumps wheezed, wrenches cranked, drills squealed with vivid passion; a symphony of metal, an unchallenged configuration that flowed throughout the blazing intensity of the shop lamps from dawn till dusk.

“Would someone get that hamster OUT OF HERE!” Somewhere a tool clattered on the floor, the unmistakable rhythm of feet hitting cement faded in the back room.

Lance heaved a sigh and sank down a little more in his shoes. “Look,” he grumbled, into the phone at his ear. “I’m sayin it. Not payin’. Not one cent. I’m not gunna argue this over like a broken record, get your facts straight on that customer report. Bottom line, you sent us the wrong parts.” He stepped a little past the corner of the doorway and checked the customers lined up at the counter. “Uh-huh. No. No, don’t go there. I promise, I can break you. Let‘s be civil about this.” Behind him, one of the crewmen raced by, bent far forward with his arms outstretched. Whatever he was chasing, it wasn’t close to getting caught.

The door parted by a fraction and two more customers entered behind a woman and child. “You can always tell what’s going on inside, by the way the different angles the cars are parked outside.” Mystery shuffled through the thin gap in the door, while casting dubious glances up at Arthur. “Uncle Lance! Yellow!” Arthur waved his arm, but turned away from the line of customers as he began another fit of hacking. “Is this a bad time?” Mystery barked twice, and looked to the lady that was staring at him. Them. The dog frowned behind his smart spectacles.

“I know you can’t close the transaction, and to be honest that ain’t my problem, is it?” Lance covered the mouth piece of the phone and stepped into the lobby. “I was wonderin’ when you’d be getting back ’round. Your trip go well?” The worker that had been racing around in the back now moved into the window, he began waving his arms high over his head and making wide sweeping gestures toward Arthur.

“About that,” Arthur hiccupped, eyes fixed on the dancing figure. He moved by the customer line and met Lance at the gap in the counter. “We made such good time—” He was cut off when Lance shoved the phone into his hand.

“Here. Talk to this guy, you’re good with the phone stuff.” That said, Lance turned and motioned the clerk at the counter assisting their next client. “When you’re done here, can you go check inventory for those new fangel fuel lines?”

Arthur put the phone to his ear. “Er, hello? Parts?” The worker that had been motioning to Arthur earlier, now came over with a clipboard and a thin page tethered to the front. The crewmate pulled the first page up as Arthur read the transcript over, the guy pointed to the distinctly varied numbers in orders and deliveries. Arthur pinned the phone under his chin and motioned to the guy with his fingers. The crewman gestured back and smirked.

Oh dear, they’re doing this again? Mystery rolled his eyes and sat.

“I’m good fixing phones, not talking people,” Arthur mouthed. The crewmate pantomimed talking with his hand.

“I’ll give you a bonus if you can save us a buck,” Lance grumbled. Once the clerk had finished with the customer, they darted back into the garage through the doorway. Lance moved over to a stepstool built against the counter, and made a rather graceful leap – for someone of his stature – onto the sturdy stoop. He pulled the keyboard over for the computer and began typing. “I’m sorry about the wait, Miss. Name?”

“Yes? Hello?” Arthur chirped. “You‘re the manager? Good-good.” He adjusted the phone at his ear, and leaned over the counter as he read over the provided page on the clipboard. “I’m looking at the order form right here. Yes. You don’t need to be snooty. The invoice says we ordered five cases of the model G, but we only use the model T. The serial number’s off.”

The crewmate made a series of gestures to Arthur, to which Arthur gave a sideways shrug. The crewmate plopped his hand back to his side when Mystery darted by, toward the back door the clerk left by.

“I’m just sayin,” Arthur went on. He paused and rubbed his palm to his brow. “Yes, totally. We can keep the parts, and we can sell them to another shop, and loose some money – that’d be about equivalent to the money we’re gonna lose in the shipping expenses. Hmm? Is that so?” Arthur pinned the phone to his ear with his shoulder, his hand reached up over his brow and began straightening up his darker hair tufts. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. Now listen, you’re about to lose a loyal, paying customer over a serial number typo, that’s in your invoice copy. I’m sure Ratchet N’ Clanks would— Whas’that? You will?” Arthur began nodding. “That is super-duper, you are such a wizard with bizz to bizz relations. Uh-huh, yeah, you have a good day too.”

Arthur groaned under his breath. He handed the phone back to the mechanic and smacked his forehead to the countertop. The crewmate tried giving Arthur a light pat on the back, but Arthur waved him off and handed over the phone. With a shrug, the crewmate returned to the garage. It took a good chunk of time for Arthur to get his bearings together; he didn’t feel inclined to hasten along.

Lance finished assisting a figure in a maroon hoody. “I suppose you’ll want that bonus?” He snatched a piece of paper that slid out of the printer and handed it to the figure. “If you’ll step outside, one of the staff will get you set up.” Lance pulled a small handheld communicator from his belt and spoke a brief message into it.

“Put it on my tab,” Arthur mumbled. “I need to commission some work on the van.” Without meaning to, Arthur dragged out the word ‘some’.

Lance nodded, his hand already directing the mouse on the screen to his nephew’s active account. The lobby was currently empty, the door slipped shut on their most recent customer. “The usual oil change? Check up?”

“Um,” Arthur grimaced. He shuffled a little closer to the computer Lance worked on and leaned on his bent arm. “I managed to get that done already. Er, what I was thinking….”

“Yes?” Lance narrowed his eyes minutely.

Arthur kneaded the edge of his vest with his fingers and took a breath. “Some inner restoration, new batteries, tires changed, and I need to schedule to get the side repainted.” The sentence was spoken in a hasty blur. When he finished, Arthur pressed his lips together tightly and leaned far-far back from the counter.

A slow blink was Lance’s response. “What?”

 

“I thought you were kidding!” Lance grated. “I thought!... you were…” Lance’s voice ceased and he shut his eyes. He took a deep breath and reevaluated the notary details of the van presented to him. Was this really the same vehicle? It was unfathomable that Arthur, of all people, would let - THE Van - come to be in this condition. “You know what? Never mind.”

“Hey Uncle Lance,” Vivi hailed from the back. The van was parked beside the furthest shutter of the garage, currently empty of customer automobiles, the passenger’s side and back doors were wide open. “I’d go over the details, but it looks like we’ll be sticking around for a while. I know this place accumulates a lot of impatient customers, ‘cause you are the best.” Vivi held up her hands and motioned Lance to keep it calm. Though no outer countenance gave away Lance’s inner turmoil, his face was beat red and his fists were clutched tightly at the sides of his belt. “And you can do whatever you need inside to get it ship shape, we’re gonna unpack everything, and I mean everything.” Vivi tucked her hands behind her back.

Lance hadn’t looked Vivi’s way, he was still staring at the once pristine yellow clad box of the Mystery Skull’s transport. “Do I want to know?” he grumbled, at last. “No! I don’t. But this’ll keep me up all night… No! I’ll regret’t if I ask.” Vivi stared as began Lance tugging at his beard, he turned away continuing with his gruff mutterings. “I’m sure there is a safe, uneventful, tale attached to this happenin’? Isn’t there?” Vivi’s frown deepened, lips screwed tight. “Your usually both such careful drivers though.” He sighed.

“Uncle Lance?” Vivi ventured. “It was just an accident with the equipment. You know how the laptop always overheats?” Vivi stepped off the bumper and leaned on the inner side of one door, hands crossed behind her back. She moved a little more out of the way as Lance trudged forward.

“An accident. Right,” Lance mumbled. He heaved himself up onto the floorboard and stood. “This is the ceiling.” He stabbed at the flanking headliner with a finger, and looked back at Vivi. “The. Ceiling. Its ruined.”

Arthur leaned around the door opposite of Vivi, the corner of his mouth tugged back in a grim smirk. “It was an interesting experience.”

“Are these scorch marks on the seats!”

Vivi turned to Arthur wide eyed, and brought a hand to her mouth. “We… I don’t know if you’d understand.” To Arthur she mouthed, ‘When did that?’

Arthur sniffed and shrugged. He sipped at the cup of coffee he carried. In the garage slot they parked near, Mystery’s barks rang out as he dashed after the squeaking wheels of a certain orange fluff. The little ball zipped around basement boarders and across the yellow/black striped caution tape adhered to the floor, while Mystery kept in hot pursuit.

“Hey,” Arthur called. “Are you forgetting who your favorite person is?”

The orange fluff zigzagged out of Mystery’s path. Mystery kept running, even as Galahad made a beeline out of the garage. Arthur set his cup on the floor and held his hand down for the plump little rodent plush.

“Aw, look’t you,” Arthur cooed. “I swear you get bigger everyday. What’re you eating? Uncle Lance? What’re feeding Galy?” Arthur stood and ran his thumb over Galahad’s hair tufts. He ignored Vivi’s sly grin.

“Oh, y’know,” Lance grumbled, as he pulled some of the ruined ceiling away. “Crickets, pizza, fish crackers, eggs an’ bacon. The usual.”

Arthur and Vivi exchanged horrorstruck faces. “That’s not what I told you to do!” Arthur yelped.

The van creaked under Lance’s weight as he tromped out, and hopped onto the pavement. “Doesn’t seem to be hurtin’ the little fella.” Lance gave Galahad a pat on his head, then straightened out his belt and walked off. “We’ll need to get some pictures. For the website— What d’you feed him, anyway?”

“What? I feed him hamster pellets, like a normal, responsible pet owner!” Arthur bent his thumb under Galahad’s chin and scratched. Galahad didn’t care, he was a hamster getting scratchies.

Lance balked a laugh. “Yuk! No wonder he wouldn’t eat. I fixed that for you.”

Arthur groaned and turned to Vivi. “A little help?”

Vivi chuckled. “I’m the last person you should ask. Mystery won’t even look at dog food.”

Arthur swung his stump in the hound’s direction. Mystery walked by, nose upturned. He wasn’t getting involved. “He’s different!” Arthur winced back when Vivi began fixing his vest collar. He glanced at the flashlight Vivi carried, as she moved it behind her back.

“And how do you know Galahad isn’t?” Vivi murmured. “We’ll start getting everything together. You have the keys?”

Arthur nodded, only partially getting what Vivi had said. He spun about and looked through the garage, the trucks and cars with hoods raised, the cough of a torch, the sparkle of embers and the buzz of electricity. His element. “It’ll be good goin’ back to what I know,” he spoke, softly. “People think our work is easy?” He scoffed. “This is what I know.” He looked down on his hand. Galahad was curling down into a relaxed puff, little by little the hamster’s eyes slipped shut.

“Really, Art?” Vivi posed. “Is that all?” She frowned at the flashlight when she tried the switch, but it wouldn’t work.

“Well, that’s hardly it,” Arthur admitted. “A change of pace, I’m looking forward to it. Huh Galy, you missed me? Tell her.” Galahad was fast asleep.

Off a ways inside the repair shop, Lance hoots back, “Did you remember to plug your arm in?”

Arthur groaned, and realized he’s unable to face palm effectively. “It’s not that kind of prosthetic!”

 

Some of the equipment needed retooling. It took a hefty sum of sorting to find what equipment Arthur should work on, aside from his own personal bags. Somehow Vivi managed to convince Arthur to cart up these items in several smaller units, rather than the ‘superman’ two trips Arthur was initially dedicated to.

One trip down, Lance managed to catch Arthur as he was bouncing down the steps from the top level. Lance stood by the doorway that opened into the main work room, as Arthur was slinking by, and said, “If you need a few off, to get your bearings. I’ll understand.” Lance raised his eyebrows when Arthur paused. “We’re busy, but what’s new?”

“No, no,” Arthur chocked out. “Vi and,” Arthur caught himself, and shook his train of thought off into a series of coughs. “Mystery and Viv-vi. They’ll unpack and stuff at her place, everything‘s cool. Trust me, I kinda, um…need some distraction.” Arthur reached a hand behind his neck and rubbed at the edge of his shirt collar.

Lance tugged his gloves a little tighter over his hands. It was no secret between uncle and nephew that Lance was deliberately avoiding the One question. “Rough case?”

Arthur moved his hand up to a rub at his hairline, and nodded. “Well, it was mostly— I mean, we did some other stuff along the way.” Galahad was suddenly on his shoulder. How he got there, Arthur was clueless to that little detail. He scooped the Hamster up and debated on whether Galahad could still fit in his pocket. “Vivi drove most the way back, but she’s not expected over at the Tome Tomb for another two days.”

“Uh-huh.” Lance nodded, without dropping his eyes from Arthur’s face. “Don’t overwork yourself, lad. If you need, ask one of the crew to take over. But whatever you do,” and here, Lance’s voice got low. “Don’t make me drag you away from your work. Understood?”

Arthur made a little sound as he nodded. He clutched Galahad to his chest as Lance stepped forward and gave him a firm pat on his good shoulder.

“Now go do your thing.” With that, Lance spun on heel and returned to the garage. Arthur stood there for a moment, struggling to take that all in. It helped that Galahad was with him.

 

__

A question began to bubble within Vivi as she navigated the van, carefully, among the traffic of their hometown. She wasn’t wondering about the final verdict of their case, didn’t mull over the reasoning of the College’s quick decision; she didn’t even fret over the prospect of Lewis assisting in unpacking what gear remained in the van, though she did ponder a multitude of small, unrelated, aspects.

“You’ve been to my apartment? A couple times?”

Lewis, in the passenger seat, had looked from the window and stared at Vivi for a full minute. It didn’t bode well with her. “I think you… moved,” Lewis petered. He peered up through the windshield at the complex of building clusters, all set about the acreage of land that was undoubtedly property to the same host. “I don’t think, you never lived here. From what I remember.” Lewis didn’t want to say anymore. “It’s nice though.”

“Thank you,” Vivi mumbled. She guided the van through the entrance gate and rolled along the open asphalt parking lot. There are a lot of cars parked in their respective spaces at the building entrance doors, open yard plots and brush filled up the areas that weren’t road. “I… y’know, I think I moved in the first place.” She had a hard time putting it into words. The implications, the sorrow budding in her soul; the yearning and sensation of forgetfulness – she forgot something. The radio was sometimes left on, she always double checked the oven before she went out anywhere, nothing in her apartment had ever been misplaced, far as she knew – she had a bad habit of leaving small curious in inappropriate places, but never lost anything important. It was this nagging in the back of her head, but now she knew the source of it. “—Felt like I had to get some space,” she settled on saying. “This feels kind of open, and Mystery could get out and run like a normal dog.”

A subdued ‘oof’ bounced from the vans back.

The van was parked two spaces down from the entrance doors of the apartment cluster. A cool breeze ran between the neighboring building clusters, tumbling down through the bare branches of the trees and ruffling Vivi’s cushy scarf. The air around her was soaked in yellow with tinges of amber, or it could’ve just been the van she was standing beside. It took a bit more time than estimated to let Arthur get himself unpacked, and the sun was already winding its way downward with every tick of the minute. Soon it would be dark, but it would be dark in her own home.

Vivi shuddered and fixed up her scarf around her neck. She rounded the side of the van and popped open the back doors. Mystery was within, moving around the smaller bags that he could manage and some of the leftover groceries.

“Ugh, we should have left the ice chest with Arthur,” Vivi chided, aloud. Mystery pinned his paws to the top of the cooler and shoved the sloshing box out of the way. “It’s his anyway.” She looked up when the anticipated reassurance failed to drift her way. The purplish pompadour was still hovering by the headrest, the door remained shut. “You okay, Lewlew?”

Lewis raised his shaded eyes over the bench seat. “You sure no one’s gonna care? Seeing me around?” Lewis’ voice took on a soft warble, the echoing tone that had drenched his shaded self. “They might start asking around, getting nosy.” He had the door opened already and slid out, nearly slipped through the door itself.

“You’re kind of hard to miss,” Vivi muttered, as Lewis joined her. She reached out and patted Lewis on his vest’s front. “Really, nobodies’ gonna ask about you. Most the tenants are so clueless about what’s going on around them – I actually thought there was an unnatural reason for that. But! Trust me, it’ll be fine.” She returned to the vans interior and began heaping up what bags she could manage; she didn’t want Lewis to catch the little hint of a scowl she felt tugging at her lips. “Daylights awasting, better get a move on!” On second thought, she shoved the accumulated bags up into Lewis arms. “Got that? Never mind, dumb question.”

Mystery lead the way. He carried quite a bit for a dog, some of the backpacks and a sleeping bag were tied together and looped over his backside, an extra bag of groceries was clenched in his jaws. He had some difficulty elevating himself in such a way, that didn’t force the bags to topple off his shoulders and onto the floor. It took some coordination to get his paw up high enough to hit the elevators call button.

“I’m on the third floor,” Vivi mentioned. The buzzer chimed as the doors opened to the lift. As the three boarded, Vivi hits the number panel with her elbow and backs up to make room for Lewis in the tiny box. The doors grated shut and following a short intermission, a faint chime signaled the lifts begrudging ascent.

As the numbers morphed on the digital panel at the upper corner, Vivi bit at her lip in the stifling silence. “But we… the group,” she began. The elevator dinged, the number read two. “I don’t know why I moved in the first place.”

Lewis glanced her way. “Did Arthur help you?”

Vivi shook her head. Not all the time Arthur spent in the hospital was for recovering from his amputation. “Where would you stay? Normally?” she inquired. The lift chimed as the doors part, and Mystery led the way out. Vivi didn’t move. “You don’t have any place to hang out, is what I’m trying to say. But I don’t remember if you were once crashing at my place, if that’s how we did it, and it felt really awkward to ask.” She tilted her head sideways, a slight shrug. “You need someplace to… wait, how should I put this? A place… where you’re known about, and don’t have to hide all the time?”

Lewis kicked his foot into the sliding door when it began to close. He mulled over what Vivi was saying, though his thoughts had gone to another place. “Whoa, hold the phone!” he crowed. “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Vivi squinted her eyes behind her glasses and nodded. “Sort of. Last time, we didn’t really do anything about it? You hung around the van, and even if it didn’t need to hit the shop, that wasn’t right.”

Lewis kicked the door again. The elevator didn’t like him. “That was fine? Best for me,” he admitted. “The van, it was a good place to start. I told you this.” Vivi marched by and Lewis followed, the elevator doors snapped at his rear. Lewis kicked a foot out backwards, the sound of his ‘heel’ hitting the door reverberated throughout the narrow corridor like a dish crashing on a tile floor.

Vivi whirled back. “You WANT me to get evicted?”

“It started it!” Lewis defended. He adjusted the bags in his arms and followed. The hall wasn’t very long, and at the furthest door Mystery stood unable to sit or anything. “De todos modos, como usted recordará? I wasn’t really presentable during that time.”

Vivi scoffed a little. “You hardly are now, but we manage.” She swayed over to Lewis and nudged his side with her elbow. “Mystery? Which bag had the keys?”

When the door of the apartment opened a crack, Mystery zipped inside and hurried to a couch situated near the kitchens bar and doorway. It was in the open living area, the sparse furniture there… felt empty. A few petite lamps camped at the corners of the room, and the end tables of the couch sported Vivi’s customary candles. There were pictures on the wall.

Mystery sprang onto the couch cushions and shrugged off the multitude of bags, then plopped down onto the carpeted floor and rolled on his back. His fur was a mess!

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Vivi chided. She dumped her keys into a shallow basin on the kitchen counter, and added her collection of bags to those that Mystery had dumped. “I swear sometimes.” She sighed, and looked through some of the grocery bags. “If you want to,” she spoke, as she looked to Lewis shutting the door. “Wait, no, go back. Lemme try again.” Lewis stood and stared at her, baffled. “You should stay here. Would you?”

Lewis nodded. He placed the bags he had – equipment, sacks, a pillow – onto the largest countertop inside the kitchen doorway. The layout of the apartment was nice; it was sizable for the estimated square footage he reasoned the individual cells were spared on each floor. “If you don’t mind a… haunted apartment, I guess.” He couldn’t resist saying it, and the clear delight that bloomed on Vivi’s face made it all worth it.

“Oh my gods, that’s right!” she cheered. Vivi nearly bit into her knuckles when she clutched her fists against her chin. “But wait, what if stuff starts to act up with you hanging around? Should I be worried about that?” And a little under her breath, “Guess I could do some freelance documentation.”

Lewis grinned, and took his sunglasses off. “Take it easy, my blue. I’ll try and keep my influence to a minimum, if that eases your tension.”

“What tension? This is gonna be cool!” Vivi picked up two of her bags from the couch, and motioned over her shoulder. “Go ahead and make yourself comfy. I just gotta check the water closet right quick. Unless, you wanna start puttin’ things away? On second thought, I shouldn’t be asking that. Just relax for now. Settle in.”

Lewis moved over to the couch. “Unless you really don’t want me to, I can start organizing the gear. But it’s no problem.” He looked through the grocery bags; no doubt the kitchen is where he should start. Mystery poked his head up and began nosing at the bag closest to him.

“I’ll leave it up to you, then,” Viv replied, as she walked into a connecting hall. “Be out in a jiff.”

“Tome su tiempo,” Lewis responded. Most of Vivi’s cabinets were tucked tight with instant meals and Ramen packets. Lewis was in the process of putting away some of the chip bags he had picked up, when he picked up on the door click. This was as good time as any. “Mystery? Hey.”

Mystery had opened a package of pastry bear claws on an end table, and was lapping up the gooey icing stuck all over the wrapping. He glanced up when Lewis came over with a walkie-talkie from one of the bags. What? You can’t eat it. The dog turned his snout down to examine the communicator, a piece of twine wrapped around the speak toggle. Do you remember what happened last time we did that? Mystery crossed one paw over the other and gave Lewis a reproaching stare.

“Just let me know if she gets out, before I get back. Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Lewis hissed. “I have to… get something.” Mystery took a deep breath and sighed. “Do this for me, and I’ll cook you up a whole chicken.” At that, Mystery’s eyes popped open. “Rotisserie style, with bacon, butter, slow cooked. You’re not willing to forfeit a chicken, are you?”

Mystery tapped his claws on the table’s surface. Lewis set the communicator down and left with another walkie-talkie in hand.

The shower was going when Lewis returned. Pipes whistled within the walls, muffled by the depth of plaster and wood, the resonance’s depth lurched as Lewis seeped through the door. Mystery still wrestled with his gooey desert, and was working to get his paws clean in the kitchen sink. The dog glimpsed towards the kitchens entrance, upon hearing the apartment door shut delicately. At current, Mystery was scrambling to heft his body up by his elbows the last few inches, in order to shut the sinks faucet off.

“Okay, so,” Lewis began, as he edged around the corner. He watched Mystery sit and begin drying his paws on the dishrag tucked around the handle of the fridge door. “Will you help me hide this? She doesn’t know about it, right? I guess I could’ve left it with Arthur, is he the one that hid this stuff?”

Mystery scrubbed his fur until most of the moisture was gone (it was such a chore), he barely gave Lewis his focus until he realized what it was Lewis had brought up. Why do you have that! The fur on Mystery’s shoulders stood on end, his glasses nearly fell from his snout.

“I’m not risking someone poking around and finding it,” Lewis hissed, face dimming and skull winking through momentarily. “And you don’t have any better ideas.”

True. Mystery released the rag and lowered one paw to the linoleum floor, the other he curled under his chin in his ponder. His sharp ears twitched as he listened to the shower run, there were numerous areas in the apartment that Vivi flat out shut up and never revisited; any one might do, but it wouldn’t do to be rash about this.

Mystery made a decision. He padded to the entrance of the kitchen, his steps slowing as he approached Lewis. The hound turned his snout up and followed Lewis line of sight as he passed. Lewis broke his gaze and took a large step out of the dog’s general perimeter. Mystery gave his coat a hard shake, his dog tag rattled at his collar, but he kept walking. Lewis followed.

Parallel to the bathroom in the narrow hall was a door, and as Lewis suspected it opened up into a closet. Lewis held the dust brushed container in one arm, as he held the door open with the other. He listened to the shower running at his back and gauged how much time he ‘might’ have to work with. If he knew Vivi like he thought, she didn’t savor a shower unless it wasn’t optional. Unless, celebratory returning home shower? Well, Lewis didn’t need to get caught hanging around outside the door like this…. Ahem.

“She won’t look in here?” Lewis pressed.

For emphasis, Mystery sneezed. The shelves within were filled with old books and an Encyclopedia collection of tattered used notebooks – the notebooks retirement home and graveyard. Other shelves were stuffed with a few extra blankets, most in shades of blues and reds. The hound tilted his head far back on his shoulders and directed his snout to the topmost corner. He used the lowest shelf before him to balance, and stood up on his back legs. Mystery ambled sideways, nose and ears aimed at that shelf, he yapped, and clicked his jaws.

“I’m trustin’ you, then,” Lewis answered. Mystery shrugged his shoulders and dropped down to his four legs. He sauntered off to the living area, leaving Lewis to his personal business.

The highest shelf wasn’t too high for Lewis’ stature, but he did raise himself an extra foot to allow for some careful organization. He shuffled around some overburdened boxes filled with knickknacks and curios, some he recognized from a far ago time, from another adventure. Lewis concealed the box in the out of the way space, and packed in the other cartons that had been misplaced by its introduction. A blanket, a wall of notebooks, and more boxes – but Vivi was sharp when it came to ‘organization.’ Lewis kept going, and began reorganizing some of the souvenir containers. Actually, he recognized a lot of these things, but there were artifacts Lewis couldn’t bring himself to hardly look at. He couldn’t decide if it was for some vague reason he disassociated with, or if it was the item itself. Most of them were not typical charms, they were authentic but Lewis had never considered what that would mean until now. It couldn’t be good for Vivi to be hoarding all this stuff.

Lewis must’ve been caught up in the fleeting touch with nostalgia for some of time. He lost himself flipping through old journals, while looking at a large black cylinder of some sort of rock that might’ve been granite, but probably wasn’t. The door beside him swung open, and Vivi very nearly stepped and into him.

Freshly clothed, a towel tied around her head, Vivi brought her raised hands down to her face when she saw Lewis, but only for a splint second. A collection of papers scattered through a flash of embers, the black stone hit the carpet with a _Thump_. Vivi winced and shielded her eyes, more from the light than the wash of heat.

“Oh gosh, Lewis!” she gasped. Vivi looked around, squinting. The so named ghost was absent. “Lew. How’s it possible for a big guy like you, to get startled by someone like me?” She tried to stifle a giggle as she knelt and gathered up the torn pages. “Are you here, or did you vanish to Timbuctoo?” There was no answer, and Vivi worried. She postponed book retrieval and sat on her knees, staring about the thin slit of the hall. It felt smaller now, confined. “Lew?”

“I’m here,” the disembodied voice rang out, softly. From the hall, there was little of the living area itself that was visible, but that’s where the voice resonated from. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Vivi felt a little of the weight lift. “I was getting nervous. Do what you need.” She dithered, as she flipped a page less notebook open. “A-are you… okay?”

“Peachy,” Lewis answered. It tried to sound chipper, his speech, but remained a little off. “Yeah, I was a little startled. Even big guys like me get spooked if you, y’know, sneak up on them. You have a habit of doing that.”

Vivi sniggered, and resumed pulling the torn papers together – some of the edges were tinged yellow and black flacked off. As she tucked the pages together, she reviewed some of the presented files. “I don’t know why I keep all this old stuff. We put it all on the computer, eventually….” This was partially a lie, it was hard to sit down and do more writing than was absolutely necessary. “I should probably be more concerned with why you were poking around in my stuff.”

Lewis poked his head out around the halls end. “Mystery! He said it was fine!”

A bark of indignation shot from the living room.

“This is your stuff too, though.” Vivi rolled the weighty granite ball into the closet, beside a pair of red dog shoes. “But that doesn’t excuse you for being nosey.”

Lewis stepped over to Vivi and crouched down. He had not managed to slip out of his death suit, but a vibrant purple ascot was wrapped about his collar. “Lo siento, mi Estrella. I…” Lewis reframed from uttering a noise of mangled, broken static. Arthur had asked him about those ‘off noises’ he made occasionally, and Lewis was horrified to learn that the debative hums he thought he was making came across as the pop-crackle that faulty radio speakers were so eager to share. “I think I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Can I borrow some blankets?”

Vivi stuffed the pages into one of the stripped empty notebook, and gave Lewis a curious look. She was without her glasses and the corridor was dark, but the locket on Lewis’ suit front was very bright. Her eyes moved from it, to Lewis’ face. “It’s not no where near time for bed,” she said. “Besides, if you want a bed we’re bringing up the blankets too. These are,” she reached over and patted one blanket on the shelf, and coughed. “Not very hospitable, don’t you think?”

Lewis helped Vivi up when she began to rise; she stuffed the books back between their cousins and distant relations on the shelves. For a minute Vivi stood and stared at the cluttered shelves, possibly evaluating where she could stick the next new series of fresh documentations.

“I’ll just head on down and unload some more stuff, then,” Lewis offered. Vivi shut the door and walked with him to the living room. A tall shelf by the window held the stereo, its radio was on and the volume low while Mystery listened. Mystery let his head slump over the couches armrest, ears slanted comfortable as the dog dozed. “You should rest for a bit,” Lewis went on. He turned from the sight of Mystery, and indicated Vivi with a finger, lightly accusing. “And I know you didn’t let your guard down once, at all, on our way back.” He froze when Vivi threw her arms around his sides and hugged. “¿Qué, cariño? I’m comin’ right back.”

Vivi mumbled into his chest. “I know. I wanted… I need to try and appreciate you more.” She removed her hands from around Lewis and stepped back from him. “I sometimes wonder….” She shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with the end of her scarf. “No, it’ll be fine. Don’t get yourself lost, or I’ll come find you.” A wide grin alit on Lewis face, and he leaned down to give Vivi a little peck on her forehead. Vivi shivered, and Mystery gave one of his over-the-top dog sighs.

“You won’t even miss me.” Lewis left her by the couch and went straight to the door. He gave a small wave, before he pulled the door shut at his back.

Vivi had a hand to her face and was trying not to grin. She turned to Mystery when he grumbled noisily. The hound was facing her now and had his arms crossed over the armrest of the couch, head tilted and a curious smirk on his snout. Vivi was concerned for a moment, as Mystery’s bright eyes moved from her and over towards the door Lewis left by. Mystery’s grin only grew wider.

Then it hit Vivi like a tsunami. Vivi raced to the door, backpedaled and grabbed the sunglasses left on the countertop, then burst out the door screaming (as softly) as she could muster without alerting Kingsmen Mechanics. “Lew! Wait! You’re not descent!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's nearly been one year.
> 
> :)


	37. Chapter 37

**Wheels and Collars**

**Part xx_37**

 

 

The sound of some small, delicate thing clattering to the floor awakens him. He thinks. He can’t remember quite what it was he was dreaming, but he still smells soot and his head is killing him. A portion of this is soon explained, when a washer bounces off the side of his brow.

 

“Ooh,” Arthur groaned. He sat up a margin. “Galy? C’mon.” He can hear the distinct squeaking of the wheels turning, though not far enough away from his head. He would need to oil those. The whining noise became intolerable, and Galahad was at Arthur’s face nudging the side of his cheek hard. Arthur has no choice but to curl a hand around Galahad and drag the hamster to the side of his shoulder, where he pins the mismatch of metal and puff. “Not wake time yet.” However, Arthur doesn’t close his eyes, but sits pinned to his work desk staring at the wall near him.

 

Dozens of hand drawn schematics are tacked to the pin board, lines choreographed in blues or reds, sometimes orange. Among the pictures are the printed copies of numerous prosthetics in varying degrees of complexity and style. Arthur sighs. He ignores the squirming hamster struggling in his fingers. Galahad nips hard, but his metal fingers don’t feel but a slight vibration.

 

“You asked for it,” Arthur muttered. At that comment, Galahad gives a little huff and settles down. Arthur rubs his finger over the hamsters head as he muses, his shoulder quivers but he manages to lessen the shakes as he sits and waits. He had an idea of what he was dreaming, but that understanding does nothing to satisfy his unsettled nerves. It wasn’t good that’s all he knew, and he didn’t need to find why his subconscious insisted on hiding it.

 

A heavy rapping bounces from the metal frame, and Uncle Lance tilts his head in through the open door. “Arthur. Y’mind?”

 

Arthur leaned back in his chair and spun to the doorway, he mutely nodded to Lance. “I got up a while ago,” he murmured. He knew what Lance’s first question would be, it was almost impulsive, and Lance shut his mouth the moment he began to speak.

 

“Aight. I came up to let you know your friends are here,” Lance harrumphed. He flung a thumb back over his shoulder as he stood in the doorway. “You get the day off to get the van squared off.”

 

Arthur was rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. His fingers were stained with traces of grease, and Galahad had the same yuck on his paws – little hamster paw prints covered the oldest layers of grim and paint. “They’re kinda early. What time is it?” A sharp pang bolts through Arthur’s spine, and he lurches back in his seat. “Wait! Who’s all here?”

 

Seemingly unperturbed, Lance stared at Arthur. A bolt was jarred on the work table, when Arthur bumped the desks underside with his knee. Lance watched the bolt make its long journey to the desks edge and fall, the sound of it hitting the floor clashed in the absolute silence of the room. “Y’know? Vivi and that… er, he gets snarly if you call him mutt. They’re here. They’n all who you expectin’?” Lance followed the bolts progress across the floor, amongst a collection of bits and pieces left scattered about from Arthur’s multitude of personal ‘projects.’

 

Arthur stood up, he tried to slow down. “I dunno, I dunno,” he mumbled. He had to set Galahad down and brace his arm to the sturdy table. “I thought she— can I bother you to let’er know I’ll be down?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance grumbled. “She said take your time. You should listen to her more. Can I get ya somethin’ in the mean? Coffee, a pizza pocket?” Lance stepped into the room and idly picked up a misplaced wrench that lay on the floor near Arthur’s couch. He gave the room a mild scan as he revolved in place, before looking back to Arthur. “Maybe a broom?”

 

Arthur wheezed out a laugh. “No, Uncle. Some coffee would hit the spot.” He lost his smirk when Lance gestured to him with a finger, and fearing the worse Arthur shuffled over to Lance.

 

“Have you been smokin’?” Lance mumbled, voice low and gruff.

 

“No!” Arthur whipped around. Did Galahad growl? “No, I’m not!”

 

“Well,” Lance says, with a light shrug. “You smell like smoke. I didn’t wanna bring it up yesterday, give the wrong impression or get Vivi involved – not over this, but you’re supposed to quit. Remember? I’m not tryin’ to pressure you.” A scratchy voice cut through the communicator on Lance’s belt. He plucked the device from his side and clicked it, the noise ended abruptly. Lance gave it a slight scowl before he moved to reattach it.

 

“I tell you, I’m not,” Arthur insisted. He took the travel bag from the couch and began going through it. He needed a clean shirt, the least wrinkly. He slowed in sifting through his assortment of clothing, all mashed together. “Honestly though, I did turn back to it.” The shirts were tossed out flat onto the couches back, he needed to have them out and look at them under the light. “I did. But I’m working on it, and my last pack was a week ago, no, way longer.” He tensed when a heavy hand fell on his back. His first instinct was to cringe away, though he knew it was Lance. Arthur gave his head a shake and peered over his shoulder.

 

“I’m proud of you,” Lance said. He had this manner of speaking that felt tense, but it was warm and heartfelt. It was the kind of persona people didn’t expect, but it meant the world to Arthur. “I’m proud you felt comfortable in sharin’ with me, and you’re tellin’ me you’re not done yet. Your health comes first, but I get you gotta move at your own pace.”

 

Arthur nodded. He tucked his metal arm closer to his side and gripped the wrist band. “Thanks. I… isn’t Vivi waiting for me?”

 

Lance sniffed. “Probably. What d’I know? I saw her drivein’ up, and I came over to see if you’re up.” He lowered his arms and motioned the walkie-talkie on his (pro wrestler) belt. “In fact, that might’ve been one of the guys callin’ for me.” Arthur shrugged off his vest and grabbed for one of the better shirts.

 

“I kind of doubt that.”

 

Lance paused before the door. “What’s’at?”

 

“Nothing! Nothing!” Arthur burbled. “Galahad, go with Lance! Let’er know I’m getting ready. Please!” Arthur scrambled around the room seeking pants. While he was at it, he tossed some of the tools scattered from the day before, back onto the couch.

 

 

The lower floor of Kingsmen Mechanics had a shower station in the back, installed primarily for standard safety requirements. Arthur was usually the one that used the showers; more often than he used his shower at home. Blearily, he wondered when was the last time he left the shop?

 

It didn’t take Arthur long to get freshened up, and head out to meet his group. He was a little apprehensive as he trekked from the garages back to the front shutters. Likewise, he was a little surprised when he stepped out into the late noon of the day, to find only Vivi and Mystery waiting. “<i> _That’s right,_ </i>” Arthur chided himself. He was all worked up for nothing.

 

A few vehicles were parked in front of the garage, and some of the repair crew wandered outside doing routine paper work before moving the car and trucks into the open slots of the garage. It was a relatively quiet, overcast day with a chilly breeze. The road that ran alongside Kingsmen’s was placid, maybe due to the construction work going on up the road that had half the lane shut down.

 

As Arthur exited the garage, a bright and gleeful bark greeted him. Mystery nearly plowed into his shins at full speed. “Whoa there, bud!” Arthur swooped down and grabbed Mystery around his shoulders, and he nearly fell over with the excited pooch as he barked up a storm. “Twelve hours tops. You can handle twelve hours, huh?”

 

“I get this distinct impression he missed you,” Vivi proclaimed. She stepped away from the open driver side door of the van, but not before excusing herself from whoever was inside. “That, and he was pretty worried. You didn’t go home with Lance last night.” It was a statement, and Vivi’s eyes squinted behind her glasses. “How’d you do?”

 

Arthur rubbed Mystery’s shoulders with his palm and stared, a little too long, at Vivi with suspicion. “I got a little busy with that dampener equipment. You know, so we won’t be busting our wallets on a surplus of batteries.” He frowned. “At least, that’s the idea. Actually, maybe some simple wards would work.” Vivi laughed.

 

“I hope you didn’t build some sort of elaborate contraption, only to come up with that solution in the moment.” Vivi shifted her hands behind her back. “Is that all you worked on?”

 

The van creaked on its wheel wells, as its occupant moved around. Lance’s heavy boots hit the cement, and he ducked back behind the vans back doors. “You two might think about going on ahead,” Lance called. “Your appointment for the body shop is set for four, so don’t keep them waiting.”

 

“Ooh, thanks Uncle Lance,” Vivi chirped. “We have plenty of time. Artie, you ready?” Vivi pulled up the tassel end of her sweater, and wrapped it around the flashlight she carried. She smirked and shrugged Arthur’s way.

 

“Yep,” Arthur muttered. He dithers to rise, when a little orange ball came racing his way from under the van. Galahad rammed at Arthur’s knees and whined. “Galy, you should—” Arthur stopped, and heaved a breathy sigh. “Never mind. You can come, but behave yourself. We’re not having a fiasco like at the petshop.” Arthur scooped the hamster up in hand, and motioned Mystery toward Vivi. When Arthur reached the door open door, he was met by Lance. Something about Lance seemed edgy, and Arthur half expected his uncle to ask him to wait or stay behind. Instead, Lance looked Arthur in the eye and frowned.

 

“You take care of yourself,” Lance said. He gripped the bundle of tattered ceiling liner in his hands tighter, as if trying to wring out the soot. “And for criminy sakes, get yourself some good food.” Lance didn’t stick around. He marched by Arthur and back into the open doors of the garage and its symphony of pumps, embers, and cranking wrenches.

 

Vivi leaned up out of the driver side door and waveed at Lance’s retreating back. “I’ll look after him, Uncle Lance!” She swung back inside the van, and sprang into the back. She began hissing, and puffing erratically. “Ow. Hot-hot.” A weighty clunk echoed from the vans back. “Sorry Lew.”

 

“Nudge over some, Misty.” Arthur scooted in beside the dog, his arm deposited the orange puff on the seat between them. “Make room for Galy. And no fighting.” He pressed his finger to Mystery’s nose, before Mystery could shuffle over into Galahad’s space. “What is our first stop, madam? And where are those keys?”

 

 

The first stop was the Tome Tomb. Arthur guided the van into one of the parking lots that dotted every cluster of blocks up and down the road, and found an open slot to park. He twisted the key out of the ignition, and leaned back with a yawn escaping.

 

“It’s so warm and pleasant sitting in the sun,” Arthur mentioned. “It’d be stellar to just nap, y’know? Sleep the winter away.” He set a hand down on the fluff pile that was Galahad, nestled beside his thigh. “I’m juz digging thinking about being home for a bit.”

 

With backpack in hand, Vivi slid squeezed down beside Mystery in the passenger seat. She tugged on the door handle. “I know what you mean, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have work to do.” Vivi pulled a pen and small notepad from her bag, and began writing. “How long d’you think it’ll take them to get the van repainted?”

 

Arthur sniffled. “Well. They have to prime it, which doesn’t take long, but it has to dry first.” He winced a bit, and shook his head. “The whole time slot will be about three weeks, for a vehicle like the van. Yeesh.”

 

“And the price?” Vivi inquired. She frowned, and stuck the pen tip between her lips.

 

Arthur leaned over and stole the pen. “Can I borrow that notepad? What’re writing on it?” Vivi didn’t protest, she handed the notepad over. Arthur set it on his lap and began writing.

 

Lewis popped up over the passenger head rest. “Vi, my shades? Did you pick them up?” The radio garbled static briefly, the sound of it fading before Arthur reached over to fumble at the nobs.

 

“Here,” Vivi hummed. She dug around in her backpack quickly, before leaning over and poking through the cup holders. She plucked up one pair of sunglasses and a walkie-talkie and handed them back. “This won’t take us long, and Art, please-please get yourself something to eat.” She checked the notepad when Arthur handed it back, and grimaced. “Ah, heh. On that subject, can you boys pick us up something, too?” She slide out of the van, Mystery followed.

 

“I think we can manage that,” Lewis replied. He slipped on the sunglasses, and leaned over to check his reflection in the rear view mirror. He taps the mirror a few times, and waves a hand in front of it. Discreetly, Arthur scoots aside. “Any requests?”

 

“Leave it up to Artie,” Vivi says. “I’m not picky.” Mystery yapped. He was already walking away. “I’ll get in touch when I’m done.” She waves the communicator she claimed, before she hurried off after the hound, and down the streets sidewalk.

 

Arthur huffed and leaned a little more on the driver side door. “She’s treating me like a child.”

 

Lewis slipped over the bench seat, his eyes flash behind the shades. “You don’t provide evidence to indicate otherwise,” he muttered. “C’mon, you get picks. When was the last time you ate, anyway?”

 

Arthur rotated his shoulders, and pulled at the door handle. “I probably munched something late last night.” He didn’t remember munching anything any time last night. The hot pocket his uncle had given him, that had been pretty good. Not as good as a real pizza, but whatever.

 

“You brought your hamster?” Lewis uttered. He shut the vans doors and went around double checking. Arthur had stayed standing where he was, watching the road and holding a hand cupped around Galahad’s wheels. “Isn’t it kind of dangerous to travel with the lil guy? Especially with… He’s kind of big for a pocket.”

 

Arthur snickered. “He’ll be fine. He’s tougher than he looks. But thank you, thank you for your concern.”

 

There wasn’t anything that could be done with the hamster. Lewis reasoned that this was something Arthur did, he couldn’t be certain. Galahad didn’t seem too upset by his change of environment, he simply looked content to be with Arthur.

 

 

The bell of the shop twittered its faint harmony as Vivi pushed the door open. She paused, giving Mystery the time to enter, and stepped in behind her faithful companion. The Tome Tomb was as she left it before, if not a little chiller come the winter months, and a little darker; if possible with the windows filled with scripture and charms. Mystery’s footfalls paced gently beside hers; the hound kept close, his sharp ears aimed forward. From the ceiling dangled glittery talismans of protection, carved from bone and rock, each piece unique.

 

“Hello,” Vivi called. “Chloe? New guy?” She never got the last guys name. “Duet?”

 

A figure poked its head through a beaded veil, causing the trademark clatter of beads to ring out. Vivi lurched back, knocking her legs against Mystery’s shoulders.

 

“Jeez and crepes,” Vivi snapped. “Why do you do that?”

 

Duet, arms loaded with books and ratty magazines, approached the front counter. “I thought you liked the creepy, and spooky atmosphere.” The stack of merchandise thumped onto the surface of the glass counter. “I have wares if you have fares.”

 

Vivi took another breath. “Very funny. I didn’t peg you as one that plays video games.” She glanced down, as Mystery padded away to give the shop his cursory examination.

 

“I don’t,” Duet went on, smile falling. “But Chloe does, and she has frequented the store since the new help outlived his usefulness.” Vivi took a step back, a thin gasp wisped between her lips. Duet’s deep frown evaporated, and a smile splint the face. “Oh, no. Not like that. The demanding work schedule was interfering with his grades, so he had to resign from us. He’ll be back come summer, I assure you. Now.” Duet gave the air an audible sniff. “Vivi! You practically radiate a vibrant spirit flame. Interesting case?”

 

“Cases,” Vivi said, and emphasized the Ss. “We were on a roll, boss. That’s kind of a portion of the reason why I came in early.” She pulled her backpack off and set it on the counter.

 

“Ooh,” Duet hummed. The figure stepped forward, arms folded on the counter top, and leaned beside Vivi’s backpack. “Tell me your dark secrets then.” The shop darkened by degrees, and the bright grin in the face was contrasted by rich shadows setting into the contours of Duet’s face. Duet’s eyes gleamed unnaturally.

 

Vivi surveyed the shops interior mildly. “I wouldn’t call them dark.”

 

Light floods the shop, and Duet dropped the once intimidating gaze. “Oh.”

 

“I’d like to buy one of my books back from you,” Vivi went on. She slipped the laptop out of the bag, then headed around the opening in the countertop. “And I need to use the printer, if that’s cool?” She disappeared through the beaded veil and hastened to the stores back.

 

“Sure, knock yourself out.” Duet looked down as Mystery made his way back to the countertop. Mystery stopped and stared up at Duet, and Duet gazed back into the hound’s crimson eyes. “How are you this evening, Mystery? Keeping Vivi out of harm, hmm?”

 

Mystery chuckled, unlike a dog, and grinned back.

 

 

“‘I don’t have pockets.’ What sort of an excuse is that?” Arthur muttered. He climbed the duel steps to the top of the restaurants patio roof, he and Lewis walked side by side with Lewis carrying the cartoons with white paper bags. “Tell me to order whatever, then make me pay.”

 

Lewis passed under the arch and scanned over the open patio. It was gray brick from the floor to the wall that encircled the numerous tables and chairs, with wide awnings stretched partway over the expanse. Aside from a few clusters of customers, it was empty. “I kind of misplaced my last coat.”

 

That comment shut Arthur up. He rubbed his fingers up under the fur in Galahad’s chin. “It, well, it did find a good home. If that’s any consolation.” He began walking across the floor. Lewis made his way towards a corner table, under a potted tree shrub. Lewis pulled out a bag of food and the drink, and set them before Arthur. Lewis paused, before opening the paper bag.

 

“Can you manage this on your own?” he murmured. “With the hamster and… Galahad won’t run off?”

 

Arthur set Galahad on the table beside his bag. With one hand Arthur brought forth his toasted sandwich and chips, and folded out the bag to set his lunch on. “He knows better. Galy, you wanna chip?” Arthur held the chip over to the hamster.

 

Lewis took his seat, and settled to watch the birds plodding around the empty seats and tables hunting for tidbits and handouts. “Was Dimitri really okay? I know, you said the kids made a one-hundred percent recovery, but what about Dimitri?”

 

Arthur picked a piece of crust from his bread and gave it to Galahad. “He was shook up. What else is there to say?” He took a bite from his sandwich and set it back to the paper wrapper. “I wasn’t there, anyway. Vi talked to him about it. Mostly, it seemed he was upset he yelled at you. So there.” He had to shoo Galahad from his chips, the hamster wanted to nest in them. A sudden thought caused Arthur’s hand to twitch, and he debated on relinquishing his chips to the hamster. “Weren’t you… sort of there?” Arthur wanted to try and ask more, but his arm… was trembling. He reached across his chest and gripped the edge of his vest. “Lew’s?”

 

Lewis turned his head a fraction, the corner of his eye socket smoldered. He had a frail suspicion why Arthur denied himself the false arm, but he couldn’t press himself to draw attention to that. “No, I wasn’t,” he murmured. “I was asleep. Look, you complained to Uncle Lance about feeding your hamster weird stuff, and here you are feeding him all that stuff.”

 

This was true. In Arthur’s distraction, Galahad had crawled into the pile of chips and had laid claim to the salty, sweet crispiness. “This is different,” Arthur retorted. “This is just a treat. It’s not the main course.”

 

“Is there a difference to a hamster?”

 

“Hold on.” Arthur rubbed some of the sticky from his fingers, and set his napkin aside. He reached into his pocket and produced his phone; with it, Arthur began working his thumb across the screen. “Give me a moment. Okay. Here, check this out.” Arthur paused and watched the phones screen a second, then handed it across the unopened lunch sacks, to Lewis. “This.”

 

Lewis took the phone and watched the video playing on it. “Tiny hamster eating tiny pizza,” he read. He pushed the shades up a bit and set the phone down on the table. He glanced up when Galahad wheeled over, and climbed onto his arm lying parallel to the phone.

 

“Galy’s favorite youtube series,” Arthur mentioned. He nibbled on his sandwich, then set it down.

 

“It’s really cute,” Lewis admitted. He reached over and rubbed the small space between the hamsters twitching ears.

 

“I know. Too bad there aren’t a lot of the vids, Galy drives me nuts watching the same ones over and over.” Arthur jerked in his seat when a crackle of static snapped. He and Lewis exchange a look, and Lewis shook his head. The crackle of static rasped through once more, and that’s when Arthur remembered the communicator in his pocket. “Viv-vi? Hey?”

 

“It’s me,” Vivi’s voice scratched through. “You’re a little – Where’d – z go?”

 

Arthur took a sip from his drink and responded back. “Must be the patio. We’re at Masterful Sauces. Do you read? Masterful Sauces? Over.”

 

A few minutes later, Vivi and Mystery arrived up the steps. Lewis was already making places up at the table. While Lewis did this, Vivi rummaged in her backpack before presenting an envelope to Arthur.

 

“Wait-wait, lemme clean your hand.” Vivi set the envelope aside, and brought out the ninety-nine and a rag. “It’s important— don’t roll your eyes at me.”

 

Arthur held his hand out. “Fine.” As Vivi wiped off the sandwich grease, Arthur eyed her backpack. “Vi, people are gunna start calling you a bag lady or something.”

 

“I will inherit that title with pride. Okay, you can open it now.” Vivi wedged herself into her seat with her supply bag, and tore into a pasta dish. “I have no idea why you got me this, and I don’t care. It’s delicious.”

 

Lewis stared at the phone. He wanted to tap on another video, but that didn’t work. In fact, when he tried to manipulate the phone, it went straight to the phonebook listing. “You should also eat the salad, you need more veggies and greens.” A strangled squawk came from Arthur, and he nearly dropped the folded sheet of paper he held.

 

“Vi! What is this?” Arthur choked. He was drinking soda while he read the sheet, clearly a mistake. He was futilely mopping up spilt soda from the tables top, one handed.

 

“That’s what—” Vivi paused mid-sentence to eat. “Don’t get it dirty. That’s the most formal check you’ve gotten in a while, right? I mean, aside from Uncle Lance….”

 

“Vi! What is this,” Arthur repeated, voice strained.

 

“Some new calculations I did,” Vivi stated. “The percentages from the cases we had – we had a few low key, but it all added up. Those are the correct sums, Duet helped me. And a bit for the damages, because those were on fault of a case, so I have to pay.”

 

“Vi!” Arthur resumed. He held the sheet of paper in his lap. “No, this can’t be right!”

 

“It is,” Vivi insisted, calmly. She picked at her food, eating quickly. Mystery would glance her way, then across the table to Lewis. Lewis was still staring at the phone. Vivi stole it away, and touched at the screen. “What’d you need?”

 

“I was watching hamster videos.” Lewis hunched down, when Vivi stopped and gave him a curios stare. Lewis had Galahad on his shoulder, and it looked like the hamster was fast asleep. For the best, probably. “Tiny hamsters eating tiny food.” Vivi AND Mystery, held their solid stare for a full minute. Vivi tapped at the phones screen, then, slipped it back over to Lewis.

 

“Calm down Art, we need to discuss some things as a group.” Vivi took a sip of her soda, then began cutting her food into smaller bites. “Yeah. We got a sizable bonus, but only from that one case we did. For the Hershey’s.” Lewis rasped a sound, and a little flame sparked from his shoulder. Arthur hadn’t noticed. “Yeah. That case. It’s a problem.”

 

Lewis slipped his shades up as he raised his head. “The Hershey’s got what they wanted. How’s it a problem still?”

 

“They got what they wanted, that’s why,” Vivi snapped. “Not that what you did was wrong, Lew. We had no choice, in the interests of the spirits confined to that home.” She continued eating bites of food, as she explained. “The school made a point to mention we didn’t spend a whole lotta time with the Hershey’s. I think maybe to keep us wary, if the Hershey’s get back in touch saying we didn’t do our job.” Vivi never doubted Lewis once, and Lewis didn’t converse vividly over what had been done to free, escort, release the family? She wouldn’t ask, and they had procured VERY little evidence from the investigation.

 

“This bonus worries me,” Vivi resumed. “We’re not under contract to do expulsions on demand, and we don’t go out of our way to do them. Unless they are absolutely necessary.”

 

Arthur glared, as Mystery pushed over the remaining half of his sandwich. “We used to,” he said. “When we started out. So, they have those files.” He turned to Lewis’ perplexed gaze. “We had to hand over those files, as credentials.”

 

“Yeah, but that was wrong,” Vivi grumbled. “We didn’t go far with that. I just wish we realized what we were doing sooner.”

 

“Fritz,” Lewis murmured. He didn’t mean to utter the name, but it had stuck to him. And his warning.

 

“That was different,” Vivi said. “Fritz was becoming dangerous, and he couldn’t be left in those conditions. It was the only thing we could do for him. But that’s the difference.” Vivi set aside her utensils, and placed her elbows to the table. She made a net with her entwined fingers, and set her chin there. “We’re trying to stay out of that field of service. The college thinks we’d be willing to reconsider.”

 

Arthur scoffed. “Thanks for the funding, but make it clear to them we’ll pass.” He and Mystery were currently mid argument over who would finish off half the sandwich. Mystery seemed to believe Arthur needed extra food.

 

“I’m working on it.” Vivi took a breath and sighed. “I put it in our report, clarifying that we are certified investigators, and anything otherwise is a violation of our contract.”

 

Arthur sat a moment, picking at the edge of the sandwich that now sat with his half eaten meal. “What do we do if they violate the terms of our contract?” He took a bite from the sandwich, but didn’t feel like chewing or swallowing. He sipped some of his beverage instead.

 

Vivi leaned over the table and looked to Lewis. “It won’t come to that.” Lewis turned his focus back to the phone on the table. “If it does, then they can have another ghost hunting, investigating group. Stability is something we need if we wanna continue our line of work. I won’t have it otherwise. Arthur?”

 

Arthur raised his eyes to meet Vivi’s, and nodded. “Well, if it ever comes to it… we could have that ghostbuster business. Y’know, if Lewis is—”

 

“No,” Lewis rumbled, glancing Arthur’s way. “Not in your lifetime paly.”

 

They finished their meal in near silence, with a few in-between occasional comments of possible scenarios and idea situations of how to progress with work. By the time they had finished – mostly – with their meal, it was almost time for the appointment at the body shop to get the van prepped for panting. The temperature was already on a steady decline as the sun swam behind the thick clouds, and sought refuge from expulsion behind a far gone horizon and a waiting forest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.
> 
> How's it going?


End file.
